Marco Polo
by JamiW
Summary: Ninth in the "Free" series - this picks up where Blood Brothers left off. B/A, some crossover with L&O.
1. Chapter 1

**Logan POV**

* * *

I paced through Steve-O's while I waited for the Gorens. It had now been nearly an hour since I last saw Carolyn.

We'd been having dinner, both of us studiously avoiding any discussions about Rhonda.

I hated that woman.

And I hated myself for having slept with her.

And now I felt nothing short of murderous rage toward her.

If she hurt Carolyn…

I didn't even want to think about it. I didn't need to, because I knew exactly what I'd do.

I'd kill her.

Plain and simple.

I needed the Gorens here because I couldn't get my mind to focus on the facts. I couldn't think about anything except possibilities of what might have happened.

Because Carolyn wouldn't have been easy to abduct. And yet no one had seen or heard a thing.

She'd left the table after suggesting that I order a round of after-dinner drinks.

She went to the ladies' room and didn't come back.

"Mike!"

_Thank God_.

I looked up to see Bobby and Alex hustling into the bar.

And while I was tremendously relieved to finally have back-up, the fact that they were here now seemed to send a signal to my body that it no longer had to hold up under the pressure.

As Alex pulled me into a hug, I sagged heavily against her and fought desperately to hold back the emotion that wanted to surface.

"I don't know where she is," I told her, my voice cracking on the words.

"It's okay," she told me. "We'll find her."

"I don't know how this happened."

"Mike, we'll find her," Bobby said, his hand a comforting presence on my shoulder. I finally let go of Alex, realizing that at any moment she was likely to be crushed under my weight.

_I had to pull it together_.

"Take a minute," she told me, locking her eyes onto mine. "And then you need to walk us through it."

"Okay. Okay. I'm okay," I insisted, as though if I said it enough times then it would actually be true. I was anything but okay. I felt like I needed to throw up. "Let's go outside though. I need some fresh air."

I led the way out of the bar and stood out on the sidewalk, gulping in the frosty night air.

"Mike," Goren began, and then he waited for me to look at him. "You didn't call any cops?"

"No. I just…no."

I hadn't wanted to call the cops.

They would have a million questions for _me_. They'd want to go through _our_ life with a fine-toothed comb.

I didn't want that. I just wanted her back.

And why bother with the NYPD when I had the best cops in the city as friends?

"Okay," Alex said soothingly. "That's fine. We can make that decision later. Tell us what happened."

"We just finished dinner. She told me to order another round and then she went to the bathroom."

"Did you see anyone follow her?" Goren asked.

"No," I answered.

"You didn't see anyone, or you weren't looking?" Alex clarified.

"I was looking. No one followed."

"Did she have her gun on her?"

"Um…yeah. Yeah, she did."

"What about her cell phone?"

"Yes."

"How long before you went to check on her?"

"About ten minutes. When she didn't come back, I went down the hall and knocked on the door, and then I went inside."

"Was there any sign of a struggle?"

I shook my head and looked down at the ground.

_What did that mean_? Carolyn hadn't put up any fight at all? Had she been drugged?

"Then what?" Goren encouraged.

"I went back into the hall. There's a fire exit door at the end of the hall, so that must be how she got her out."

"_She_," Alex stated. "You're assuming that it was Rhonda."

"It was either her or someone working for her. I mean, who else would it be?"

"I don't know, but let's not jump to conclusions. We don't want to get blinded by assumptions."

She was right, but it was still frustrating, and before I knew it, I was pacing again. I ran my hand through my hair for the hundredth time in the past hour and looked at them.

"I went through the door and looked around outside, but I didn't see anyone. I didn't see one damn thing. It's like she just fucking vanished into thin air."

"Alright," Alex said calmly. "Did you talk to anyone in the bar? Did you ask around?"

"I asked every damn person in there. No one saw a thing."

"You stay out here," Goren said. "Alex and I are going to go take a look at the scene."

I nodded vehemently and resumed my pacing. They would find something. They were the best. She hadn't just disappeared. She hadn't just walked away.

I stopped in my tracks.

_Had she?_ Had she just walked away?

It's not like she hadn't done it before. When she'd left Major Case, it was like she'd fallen off the face of the earth.

My heart was in my throat and I was beginning to hyperventilate.

She wouldn't leave me. Not Carolyn. She loved me. _Right?_

But why wasn't there any evidence?

Carolyn would never go quietly, and even if she'd been drugged, it wouldn't have been instantaneous. And surely she would've seen someone approach her.

There would be _some_thing…

But there wasn't.

I only had a split-second of warning before my dinner decided to make a repeat appearance. I stepped around the edge of the building, and threw up into the alley.

**

* * *

**

Bobby POV

I could feel Mike's pain as though it were my own.

I'd been there before, right where he was. Of course, Alex hadn't been my wife at the time, so maybe it wasn't exactly the same, but I'd loved her. And I would've been devastated if I'd lost her. Just like Mike would be if he lost Carolyn. We all would be.

But I had to quit thinking like that.

We'd find her.

Alex was right to insist on keeping an open mind, but I knew that Rhonda was behind this. It was too calculated. Too organized. Too specific.

"What do you think?" Alex asked me as we looked through the ladies' room. Mike had gotten the bartender to close it off with a construction cone.

"This was definitely well-planned out," I said as I squatted down to look closely at the tile floor. It was old and worn, but it was kept fairly clean. "I don't see any blood."

"I don't get it," Alex admitted as she looked in each stall. "I don't see just anyone being able to sneak up on Carolyn. And she's got some damn good reflexes."

"Stay right there a minute," I told her as I headed for the door. She waited in a stall while I opened and closed the exterior bathroom door. It made noise.

"Yeah, I hear that," Alex called to me as I walked back into the room. "So either the abductor was already in here, or…"

"Or she caught her in the hall," I filled in while Alex nodded.

We stepped out of the bathroom and into the hall. I looked in the direction toward the bar, and found that no tables were visible in my line of sight. I turned and looked back toward the exit door.

"The alarm doesn't work. This was definitely the escape route," Alex stated as she bent down to take a closer look at the handle. "We'll have to find out if management disabled it on purpose."

I stood next to her and looked carefully over the floor for anything out of the ordinary.

"Um, yeah, I don't think so," I said as I reached down to pick up an object from the tile near the threshold. It was a very short section of yellow wire coating.

My eyes tracked around the door frame until I found a spot that looked scratched. Alex found it at the same time I did, so she reached into my pocket and pulled out my knife.

"You know I would've killed for you to do that last year at this time," I commented idly as I watched her use the blade to push back the door casing.

"Do what?"

"Reach into my pocket."

She threw me a smirk and shook her head.

"Give me your handkerchief," she added with a chuckle.

"You're not going to get it yourself?" I asked, although I reached into my pocket and pulled it out. She used it in place of a glove and grabbed hold of the frame. It came back easily and exposed a small bundle of wires.

They'd been cut cleanly.

"So that answers that question," she said. "But whoever did this must have staked out the place. They were familiar with the layout and with this door. We definitely need to bring in a picture of Rhonda and show it to the staff."

"I don't see her as being the type to do her own dirty work," I countered as we stepped outside into the back alley. "She had help."

"She managed to do some damage to you," she reminded me, with a quick downward glance. "She's not above getting physical."

"She caught me off guard," I agreed. "But we know what she is now. If Carolyn had seen her, she would've never let her get close. And yet it's hard to do an ambush without leaving behind a trace of evidence. I think it was someone else, someone working with Rhonda, and they managed to lure Carolyn close enough to then be able to drug her."

"Or threaten her," Alex suggested.

Damn, the woman is smart. I hadn't even considered that, but it made the most sense of anything we'd come up with so far.

"You mean, threaten to harm Mike," I elucidated. She nodded her head.

"If I'd come out of that bathroom while you were waiting for me in there," she said pointing down the hall. "And someone told me that there was a gun pointed at your head, but if I came quietly then nothing would happen to you, well…I'd go. I mean, that's kind of like what Frankie did to me. He said he'd blow up the whole building if I didn't go with him. Threats work better than force if it's done properly."

"Okay," I nodded. She was right. I hated thinking about the time that Frankie had grabbed her, but at least then, we'd known she was in the building. We'd been on her trail in a matter of minutes, and we'd had an entire police force at our disposal.

And yet I'd still been a wreck.

"Let's go get Mike," I said suddenly. I didn't want him to be alone any longer than necessary. "We need to get organized, lay out what we know, and then make the decision as to whether or not to call it in."

"I think we should," Alex stated. "We need the manpower."

"But then we'll be kept out of the loop," I reminded her. "We're not cops anymore."

"We don't need cops."

It was Logan. He was standing at the end of the hall and he looked like hell. And I don't mean just because of the remnants of the bruises from last week's beating.

He had broken out in a sweat despite the fact that it was well below thirty outside, and his face was haggard and pale. He had his cell phone in his hand.

"I don't think it's an abduction after all," he added.

"What are you talking about?" Alex asked him. We both went down the hall, and Alex took the phone from his hand.

"Oh my God," she murmured as she looked at the message. "Mike…"

"I knew it. I _fucking_ knew it," he ground out, and then he turned abruptly and slammed his fist into the wall, busting straight through the sheet rock. He absently pulled his hand from the wall as though he hadn't felt a thing and headed for the front door. "It's what I've been telling myself all along."

"Mike, wait!" Alex called out as she ran after him. I followed closely behind, still in the dark about what was going on.

We caught him on the front sidewalk. He was still moving quickly away from us, so Alex grabbed his arm to stop him. Logan jerked away from her, causing her to stumble backwards a step or two.

That was when I'd seen enough.

I took hold of his shoulder and shoved him into the front of the building.

"You need to calm down," I warned him, pinning him against the wall with my hand on his chest.

His eyes were looking everywhere at once and were filled with unshed tears. He was breathing in short bursts, and then he finally closed his eyes and took in a long, shuddering breath.

"I'm sorry," he rasped out. "Shit, I'm sorry, Alex."

"It's okay," she assured him, but I wasn't so forgiving.

"What the hell is going on, Logan?"

"Bobby," Alex said, and now she put her hand on my arm to get me to let him go. "Look."

She held out the phone to me and I glanced at the screen. It was a text message from Carolyn.

_**I'm sorry, Mike. I love you, but it's not enough. I have to go. Please don't hate me.**_

TBC...

* * *

A/N: This is all for today - my son graduates tomorrow (although I have no idea how that's possible since I'm only 25...) Anyway, hopefully more on Monday!


	2. Chapter 2

**Alex POV**

* * *

I couldn't believe it.

I mean, I'd seen the way Carolyn was around Mike. I just couldn't believe that she would ever leave him.

And without a word?

No, there had to be another explanation.

And I had no doubt that if Mike weren't so distraught over her disappearance in general, then he would realize the impossibility of it as well.

Rhonda was screwing with him. She was hitting him where it hurt, and at this moment, it was working.

He was in about the worst shape I'd ever seen him. And I'd seen him pretty bad off.

"Mike," I said gently as we steered him toward our car. "Just because this came from Carolyn's phone, that doesn't mean she's the one who sent it. Think about it. This is something that Rhonda would do."

"She's right," Bobby added. "You can't jump to conclusions. You need to have a little bit of faith in Carolyn."

"I have faith in her," he muttered. "It's me I don't have faith in. How did I ever think I would be able to keep someone like her?"

I had to reach him somehow. He wasn't going to be of any use to us if he couldn't pull himself together.

"We need to call Ross and see if they can pinpoint the location of where that text was sent from," I said to Bobby. "Can you call him?"

He looked back and forth from me to Logan for a few seconds.

I knew what he was thinking. I usually handled Ross, but that was in the old days when he was our boss. And right now, I thought that Mike needed some feminine emotional support.

I guess Bobby picked up on that, because without a word, he pulled out his cell phone before stepping away to make the call.

"Mike, think about it," I encouraged him. "Carolyn wouldn't do this. Why would she change her name if she was getting ready to leave you?"

"I don't…I don't know," he admitted.

He still wouldn't look at me and I knew he was beating himself up on the inside. I was an expert at dealing with men who practiced self-flagellation. I knew the signs.

"This is exactly how Rhonda wants you to feel. She's gunning for you. I don't know why – maybe she's upset that you're the one who got away. Maybe she's mad that you exposed her scheme and sent her on the run. I don't know. But she's after you, and she's learned your weakness."

"Plural," he murmured.

"What?" I asked.

He finally brought his eyes up to meet mine and the pain in them was almost too much for me to bear. I loved him like a brother, and it broke my heart to see him so devastated.

"Weakness_es_. Plural. I've got a hell of a lot more than one."

"Mike," I sighed, shaking my head. "That _is_ your weakness. That you don't believe in yourself. And here I thought we'd made so much progress," I teased gently.

"Ha," he barked out. "Show's how much you know."

I stepped in front of him as he stood leaning against the car. I put my hand on his cheek in a gesture of support.

"Carolyn loves you. Rhonda has taken her and is setting this whole thing up. We'll find her."

"But…"

"She didn't leave you. Believe it."

"Ross is going to call us back in a few minutes," Bobby said as he approached the car. "Everything okay?"

"Everything's good. Right, Mike?"

"Yeah. Yeah, okay. Let's um…let's go to my place. I want her to know where I am. Then we can decide what to do next."

That said, he turned and got into the backseat and closed the door.

"He's not good," I said quietly to Bobby.

"I wouldn't be either," he replied.

"You would never believe that I would willingly leave you," I insisted as I started to walk around the front of the car. Then I stopped and looked back. "Would you?"

"I…um…honestly? I don't know," he admitted with a shrug.

"You don't know?" I repeated in disbelief. "How can you say that?"

I stared at him for a moment, but he couldn't seem to formulate a response. I shook my head and walked around to get in the driver's side.

Now wasn't the time for an argument. Carolyn needed our help.

But I couldn't shake the feeling of disappointment.

Mike's place was close, so it only took a minute to drive the half a dozen blocks and find a place to park. On our way up the front steps, Bobby's phone rang.

"It's Ross," he said just before he answered it. "Yeah, Goren."

I went on inside with Mike while Bobby stood on the porch to talk.

"I'm sorry about earlier," Mike said. "On the sidewalk. I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"Of course not," I assured him. "Get your computer going. We've got work to do."

"Ross said the cell phone accessed a tower in Brooklyn," Bobby said as he came into the kitchen to join us.

"Here?" Mike asked quickly. "She's still in Brooklyn? Well, let's go!"

"Let's go where? Mike, just because she's in the borough, that doesn't mean we can start knocking on every door," I reminded him.

But he was still headed towards the front door.

"Why the fuck not? How long could it take?" he snapped back.

"Logan!" Bobby yelled, startling me and Mike both. Logan stopped, with one hand on the knob.

I stood frozen in the kitchen and watched as Bobby crossed to the foyer and stood toe to toe with Mike.

"It doesn't mean that she's here," he continued sharply. "It means that _Rhonda_ is. Or whoever wants you to think that Carolyn's left you."

Mike shifted his weight and took a breath, obviously still surprised by Bobby's outburst, and yet he made no move to step away from the door.

"Are you listening to me?" Bobby barked out. "Go in there, and sit down and _screw your head on straight_ so that we can figure out how to find your wife!"

**

* * *

**

Bobby POV

I hadn't planned on yelling at Logan, but he needed it.

I didn't blame him, but it still had to be done.

He'd gone off the deep end and sometimes it took a kick in the ass to come back.

I knew.

Carolyn had done it for me after Mollie was kidnapped.

And I didn't blame Alex for trying the gentle approach, but it wasn't working, so it was my turn.

So after I finished my tirade, I held Mike's gaze until he finally relented and slowly walked back into the kitchen. He grabbed the laptop off the counter and set it on the table, hitting the power button before sitting heavily into a chair.

"There are two and a half million people in Brooklyn," I reminded him as I sat down across from him. "You know that. You also know that the text came in over twenty minutes ago. The sender could be well on their way to Jersey by now."

"I know," he said quietly. "It's just…I can't just…"

He stopped talking and put his head in his hands. He'd reached his breaking point.

I glanced at Alex and tipped my head toward the door, motioning for her to give us a moment. She read my cue and slipped out of the kitchen.

"I've been where you are," I told him. "You feel helpless, impotent, and really pissed off. But that's not going to help find her. You have to pull it together."

"It's not the same," he mumbled.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not discounting what you went through when that crazy bitch snagged Alex. I know it was hard. And I know it was terrifying, especially having seen first-hand her handiwork. I'm sure those images haunted you for some time."

"They still do," I admitted.

"I can understand that," he said quietly, finally bringing his head up to look at me. "But when I said this isn't the same…what I mean is, what if Carolyn doesn't _want_ to be found?"

I realized then that he was almost more afraid that she'd left willingly then that she was at the hands of Rhonda or some other unknown captor.

And I don't think he was being selfish with that thought.

I think he trusted more in Carolyn's ability to protect herself than in his own ability to recover if she'd truly left him.

"It doesn't matter," I told him. "We'll find her either way. If she left by choice, then she can tell you that in person, not through some text message."

He nodded thoughtfully, and I knew he was working hard to be rational.

"But I don't see that being the case," I added. "I think Alex is right. I think whoever took her used a threat to you as a way to get her out of there quietly."

"So what's our next move?"

"We keep track of the cell phone. We try to find Rhonda's reason for using the aliases that she has. I mean, she picked Shannon Logan for a reason, right? Was it just to let you know that she knows about your past? _Does_ she know about your past?"

"If she does, it's from someone else. I don't talk about it, and even if I did, I sure as hell wouldn't have talked about it to someone like her."

"How much would be public record?" Alex asked.

I turned to find her standing in the doorway. I didn't know if she had impeccable timing or if she'd been listening from the other room, but either way I was glad to have her back.

This case was making me want to keep her in sight at all times.

Because as much as I was jumping on Logan to get his act together, I had no idea how I'd be reacting right now if I were in his shoes.

Alex had asked a legitimate question earlier.

Would I have believed the message if it had come to me from her?

Would I believe that she would just one day stop loving me?

I'd like to say no, but I wasn't sure that was the truth.

I'd wondered for so long what it was that she saw in me, why she loved me. I'd felt that she deserved better, and one of my biggest fears was that she would one day realize that.

We'd been in a solid, strong relationship for six months.

I'd been insecure and self-doubting for the decades prior.

Which feeling would win out if push came to shove?

"How many of my beatings were documented?" Logan asked nonchalantly, as though he was talking about the weather. "None. I never reported her. Social Services was never notified."

"Did your mom ever go to AA or any kind of rehab facility?"

"Ha," he laughed shortly. "She would've had to think she had a problem, which she didn't."

"Well, Rhonda knows something about her," I said, getting out of my head and back into the conversation. "Otherwise using your mother's name wouldn't hurt you. And she's all about hurting you."

"Make a list," Alex told him, shoving a notepad across the table. "Of anyone who might have an inkling about your mother's true colors. We'll go back to Steve-O's with a photo of Rhonda."

"Taggart, too," I reminded her. "Just in case. As far as he's concerned, he's still got unfinished business with Logan."

"I hadn't thought about him," Mike admitted.

"Anyone else? Can you think of anyone who might target you?"

He was quiet for a minute, and then shook his head.

"No, but we did put Quarles away. Maybe we should make sure that he's still in prison."

"We can make a call, but Mike, this is someone after you, not Carolyn," Alex told him. "Otherwise, the text would be pointless. This is someone trying to hurt you."

"Well, they're doing a damn good job," he said. "So my two scenarios are this: someone took her to hurt me, or she just left me. Talk about your lose-lose."

"It could be good though," I spoke up. "If we're assuming the text is a ploy, then that means the kidnapper wants to taunt you."

"And how exactly is that good?"

"It means that he's less likely to hurt her," Alex clarified. "He'll want to keep her around as bait."

"Oh my God," he whispered, dropping his head into his hands again. He sat there for a minute, and then stood up quickly from the table and paced across the floor. "I've been sitting here feeling sorry for myself, and she's the one being held captive. How fucked up is that?"

"It's normal," I told him quickly, forcing him to stay focused. "Now get started on that list. And then go back over those records on Addison Hooper. There's something there, and we need to find it."

"And I think we need to send a message back to Carolyn's phone," Alex added. "If it's the kidnapper, it'll start a dialogue, and we can keep tracking the towers."

"Good idea," I agreed. "Give me his phone."

Alex handed me Logan's cell phone. He'd never taken it back from her after we'd read the text.

I pulled up the message and thought about it for a minute before typing a reply.

_**Let's meet so that we can talk. If you truly want to leave, I won't stop you. **_

I held the phone out to Alex first and then Mike to let them read it before hitting send.

"Do you think it'll work?"

"I guess we'll find out soon enough."

The doorbell rang as Alex and I stood to leave.

We were all instantly on alert. Mike was the only one of us who was armed, but he quickly went into the kitchen and pulled a .380 out of a drawer. He handed it to me before drawing his own weapon, and then the three of us went into the foyer to see who was paying the Logans a visit at nearly midnight.

Mike got into position off to the side of the door and I was on the other, and then Alex pulled it open from behind.

"Whoa – hey!" Ross said, holding his hands up in the air. "It's me."

"Captain, what the hell are you doing here?" Mike asked as he shoved his weapon back in his holster. I tucked the .380 into the back of my pants and waited to hear what Ross had to say.

"After you called," he began, looking at me. "I checked out a few more things."

"And?"

"And I might have something."

TBC...


	3. Chapter 3

**Ross POV**

* * *

I'd been halfway home when I got Goren's call.

He wanted me to run a track on a cell phone text.

When he gave me the Cliff notes on the details, I quickly found a place to turn the car around and I started driving towards Brooklyn. I hung up with Goren with the promise of a call-back, and then I called my new guy, Bernard.

I'd decided to start with him for two reasons.

First off, he was in the office.

As I was on my way out the door, I'd seen him and Harker still plowing through an old casefile that I'd given them to get their feet wet. It was a cold case, and was essentially busy work until something better came along, but so I knew they were there even though it was late on a Saturday night.

Secondly, Van Buren had vouched for Bernard as a detail-oriented hard worker with a strong sense of confidentiality. I wasn't going to make it known that I was using department resources to work on a non-departmental case.

Unless of course, we could prove that it was Rhonda and then it would be legitimate.

Or until such time that Logan decided to make an official report, at which point the NYPD would also have jurisdiction.

But I wasn't going to force Logan's hand on that aspect. I was going to respect his instinct to keep it quiet, at least until I knew more about the situation.

So I called Bernard, and told him to get me the requested information, and while I waited, I drove toward the Logans house.

When Bernard called me back and told me that it had bounced off a Brooklyn tower, I quickly brought Goren up to speed.

And after I hung up with him, I had another thought.

What would the log of Carolyn's phone records show?

I debated on whether or not it was a good idea to pull the log. Technically, it would be illegal. Carolyn had done nothing wrong so it would be a blatant violation of her privacy.

But Goren had mentioned the lack of evidence at the crime scene.

Had she been called prior to her disappearance?

Had she called someone else?

Or better yet, was her captor now using her phone to make other calls? And had he or she been smart enough to disable the GPS device on the phone?

It would all be vital information to have, so I decided that it was worth a shot. I called Bernard again.

"It's Captain Ross," I told him when he answered. "I need you to pull the logs for the cell number you just checked out."

"How far back?" he asked me immediately. It was possible that I was going to like this guy.

"Um…just three days."

"You got it. Am I looking for something in particular?"

"I'm mostly interested in the activity from the past three hours," I clarified. "But pull the record and call me back and then we'll go from there. And see if by some chance the GPS is still working."

"Yes sir."

I hung up with Bernard and immediately dialed Liz. She was working, as usual, stuck with the weekend shift after her short-notice vacation days from last week.

"Liz, it's me. We've got another situation."

"Well of course we do. We've been back all of what…four days?" she replied with a sarcastic laugh. "What has Rhonda done now?"

"How do you know it's Rhonda?"

"That text message Logan got," she stated as though I were an idiot. "Anyone could see that she was getting ready to make some kind of move. What is it?"

I started to fill her in, but then my phone indicated that Bernard was returning my call.

"Hey, Liz, I need to go. I just wanted to give you a heads-up. I'll get back with you."

I hung up on her and only felt slightly guilty about it. She and I were both familiar with the fact that when duty called, there wasn't always time to exchange proper pleasantries.

"What've you got?" I asked Bernard. About this time, I was pulling onto Logan's street. I found a parking space and listened to my detective as I got out of the car and walked down the block.

"Thanks," I told him when he finished his briefing.

"Want me to track it down?" he offered.

"Definitely. And call me back."

I walked up Logan's sidewalk and onto his porch and then rang the bell. As I stood there waiting for them to open the door, I considered the fact that maybe I should've let them know I was coming. But still…when the door came open and I was looking at not one, but two weapons pointed at me, I was a little unsettled.

"Whoa – hey, it's me!" I shouted as I put my hands up.

"Captain, what the hell are you doing here?" Logan asked in exasperation as he put his weapon away. I was going to let his unfounded annoyance go. I had no doubt he'd been through a mental hell over the past couple of hours.

"After you called," I replied as I looked at Goren. "I checked out a few more things."

"And?"

"And I might have something."

"What?" Alex asked me as I followed them all into the house.

"What time did you first realize that Carolyn was missing?" I asked Logan.

"About a quarter after nine. I'm not sure of the exact time."

"You called us at nine thirty-seven," Alex said after checking her phone.

"That would be about right then. I looked around for maybe ten minutes, and then I went through the place, questioning the other customers."

"Good," I responded. "Carolyn received a call at nine-oh-eight and then a minute later, her GPS was turned off."

"Who called her?" Logan asked quickly.

"Big surprise. No name cell. But it's not the same number that Rhonda's been texting you from."

"So it's not Rhonda," Logan mused.

"It's not the same phone," I corrected. "I can't imagine she doesn't already have another one. She knows you can track her by the other one."

"You've got someone looking into it," Goren said, and it wasn't a question. I caught his eye across the kitchen and gave him a nod.

"As we speak. Hopefully we'll know something shortly."

**

* * *

**

Logan POV

News of the phone call brought a fresh onslaught of questions.

Was this her captor? Or was it someone else? A secret lover?

I didn't voice that last thought out loud. I didn't need Goren yelling at me again or Alex feeling sorry for me.

I knew that they were trying to help, and I loved them both dearly for it, but right now more than anything, I needed to do _some_thing. I needed action.

Sitting around in my kitchen letting my thoughts run rampant was going to be the end of me.

"So bring me up to speed," Ross said. "What do you know?"

"Hardly anything," I retorted. "She may have run off. Or she may have been kidnapped. It may be Rhonda. It may be Taggart. Or it may be some unknown participant. Basically, we don't know a fucking thing."

I stood there with my hands on my hips, waiting for someone to contradict me, but no one did.

"Yeah, what he said," Alex said after a minute. "Rhonda's been keeping us at bay for quite some time now. We haven't had luck tracking her. But she's definitely been keeping up with Mike. And she would know that he and Carolyn were regulars at Steve-O's."

"But if it's someone who called her, then it wouldn't have to be anyone who would know where you were. The person could've been anywhere and simply made the threat that she needed to leave without a word or Mike was dead," Goren countered.

"Is that our working theory?" Ross asked. "That a threat was made against Logan?"

"It's the most plausible. Kidnapping Carolyn from a public location without a trace…I just don't buy it."

"But it could be that she…" I spoke up, but Alex interrupted.

"And she _didn't_ just walk away." She was starting to get ticked off at me. "I don't give a shit what that text message says," she added when I opened my mouth to contradict her. "And you shouldn't either."

She reached over and grabbed her coat from the back of a chair and angrily shoved her arms into the sleeves.

"I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm going to Steve-O's before they close so that I can talk to the staff and show them pictures of Rhonda and Taggart. Ross, you call me when you hear back on that phone, okay?"

"Absolutely," he promised her. She headed for the door without a backward glance.

I shifted my eyes to Goren and then to her and then back to Goren.

"Are you going with her?" I asked him. He looked unsure and I wondered what was going on with _them_.

My cell phone rang and that stopped Alex's exit.

"Is it a text?" she called to me from the doorway.

I looked at the display. This one was from Rhonda.

_**Poor Mikey. Where is your Carolyn? And why is Captain Ross at your house? **_

I threw my phone down and blew past Alex as I ran for the door.

Rhonda had to be somewhere in the neighborhood. Ross hadn't been here long.

"She's here!" I shouted as I crossed the foyer and drew my weapon for the second time in the past ten minutes.

I could hear the scraping of chairs and footsteps behind me as I flung open the front door and barreled down the steps.

Rhonda was here.

If I got my hands on her, I would surely end this night in jail, but it would be worth it.

"Do you see anything?"

It was Goren, directly behind me with my .380 in his hand. Alex was beside him looking at me expectantly, and Ross was just behind them with his own weapon drawn.

"No," I said with a shake of my head. "Let's split up."

We tromped through my neighborhood for nearly an hour before calling it quits and going back to my place.

There was no sign of her.

Of course, we didn't know what kind of car she drove, or if she even had a car. She could've been in any of the buildings nearby, watching from a window.

It would've been a miracle if we'd actually found her.

"This is getting ridiculous," Ross said when we gathered again in my kitchen. "She's playing cat and mouse with you. We need to call this in."

"I don't want to lose control of it," I countered. I didn't want the NYPD running roughshod on my life. I'd put away hundreds of criminals in my lifetime. Why was it so hard to catch this one woman? We just needed to regroup.

"I can help keep you involved," Ross promised. "To an extent, anyway. And you're contracted for the Rhonda Hagen case anyway. You can keep working it from that angle."

"I think he's right, Mike," Alex spoke up. "We need more manpower."

I looked at Goren to see what he thought, because of everyone in the room, I knew that he most understood what I was feeling.

"I think that we sit on it another day," he said carefully, his eyes shifting to Alex as he said the words. "If we can find out about the phone, that'll be another lead to track down."

"But how long will that take?" Alex argued. "What does it hurt to have back-up on this?"

"Rhonda is obviously watching us. If we bring in more cops, we don't know how she'll react."

"She didn't mention cops in her text," Alex insisted. "This isn't a standard kidnapping. There's not going to be a ransom demand."

"I'm just saying…"

His statement was cut off by the ringing of my cell phone. I picked it up from the table where I had tossed it earlier and looked at the display.

"It's another text from Rhonda," I said, almost dreading to look at it. But I clicked on the message and read aloud.

_**Mikey, in case you were thinking about it – don't call this in to the cops.**_

We all sat in silence after I read the message.

I looked at Goren again, but he was focused on Alex and when I shifted my eyes to her, I noticed her nodding slowly.

And then they both stood up, and Alex looked at me and put her finger to her lips, telling me to be quiet.

Goren grabbed the notepad and pen and jotted something down quickly and then shoved it in my direction.

_**Bug?**_

Holy shit, I hadn't even considered that. That would explain how she knew about Chicago, and Ross, and…everything.

I hopped up from the table and looked around the room, trying to determine the most logical hiding place. Unfortunately, the damn things are so small that it could be just about anywhere.

Goren handed the note to Ross, who then also got up from the table and the four of us began quietly searching the kitchen.

"So, I think we need to call it a night," Alex said suddenly, but when I looked at her she was shaking her head. "There's not much more we can do at the moment."

"You're right," Goren agreed. They both continued to look in light fixtures, electrical sockets, and basically everywhere in the sitting area of the kitchen while Ross and I ransacked the cabinets and drawers.

I tuned out the Gorens' prevaricated conversation that they were conducting for our eavesdropper's benefit.

Instead, my mind was a mess thinking about when this might have happened.

_After our door was shot up_?

We'd stayed in the hotel for days while the house sat empty and unprotected.

Did that mean that Rhonda had shot it up? Or was she just taking advantage of the situation?

Because I found it hard to believe that she could've gotten in since then. We'd had the security system in place, and even though she was slippery, I didn't consider her to be a master at breaking and entering.

Although maybe I needed to quit underestimating her. I would've never thought that she would resort to kidnapping either, and it definitely seemed as though she was behind this.

Which meant that Carolyn hadn't left me. Which meant I'd underestimated _her,_ too.

I'd assumed that she didn't have the fortitude to stick out a relationship with me, while this whole time she's been at the mercy of her kidnappers.

And it had to be plural. Rhonda wouldn't be playing games with us, and holding her at the same time.

Unless she had her tied down well enough to be assured Carolyn couldn't escape.

That thought sent my heart into my throat.

Had she hurt her?

What if she'd killed her?

I dropped the tray of silverware I'd been holding, and the entire contents went scattering about the floor, but I barely heard the sound.

_Was she already dead? _

Had Rhonda killed her, and that's why she now had time to taunt me?

No. I would know if she was dead. _Wouldn't I?_

Isn't that what people always said – that if someone you were connected to as deeply as Carolyn and I, then one person would feel it if something happened to the other?

Of course, I'd been ready to believe that she'd left me. That maybe she'd had a clandestine lover.

So how connected were we?

I'd mentally let her down by not believing in her, and I'd physically let her down by not finding her.

I sagged against the kitchen counter and looked around helplessly as the others continued their search.

Alex caught my eye from across the room, but then something else caught her attention.

She crossed the room and came to stand directly in front of me. Reaching just past my head, she touched the handle on the cabinet next to me. Then she took a step back and pointed at it.

I turned around to look at it, and it took me a second, but then I noticed.

It was different than the other knobs. Not by much, but it was still different.

The other handles were black, with decorative etching around the edges. This one had the etching all the way across.

Alex waved Goren over and he took a closer look at the handle and then gave us a nod.

We'd found the bug.

TBC...


	4. Chapter 4

**Alex POV**

* * *

Standing in Mike's kitchen, I felt myself getting angrier and angrier.

I knew he felt that the most likely scenario was that Carolyn had left him, and I couldn't understand why he would think that.

And then Bobby had to hem and haw when I'd asked him about it.

I hadn't really meant it as a question at the time. I assumed that he would think that Mike was being unreasonable.

Instead, he'd said that he wasn't sure what he would think.

Which meant that he wasn't truly confident in my feelings for him.

And I didn't understand how that was possible.

How could he ever believe that at some point I might just walk away from him? I'd thought we were well past that.

Ross' appearance at Logan's house was unexpected but very welcome. I couldn't believe he'd gone as far as to pull Carolyn's phone records, but it cleared things up a little.

She'd gotten a call, and then she'd turned off her GPS. That sounded to me like she'd received a threat along with instructions.

But of course, when I glanced at Mike, I could read him like a book. He was thinking that maybe it was another man.

_What was wrong with him? _

"So bring me up to speed," Ross said. "What do you know?"

"Hardly anything," Logan began. And then he started spouting off theories. "She may have run off. Or she may have been kidnapped. It may be Rhonda. It may be Taggart. Or it may be some unknown participant. Basically, we don't know a fucking thing."

He stood there looking at us, daring anyone to dispute his analysis. But as mad as it made me, I had to admit that he was right to some extent.

Factually, we didn't have much. But he should've been able to trust his gut. I trusted mine.

"Yeah, what he said," I agreed at last. "Rhonda's been keeping us at bay for quite some time now. We haven't had luck tracking her. But she's definitely been keeping up with Mike. And she would know that he and Carolyn were regulars at Steve-O's."

And then of course, Bobby had to contradict me.

That's when I realized the extent of my hostility towards him, because normally I have no problem with him and me holding differing opinions, but tonight it just pissed me off.

Although I did have to give him some credit for agreeing that there had been a threat made, rather than perpetuating the consideration of her abandoning Mike willingly.

But did he really think that?

Or was he holding back to keep from upsetting Mike further?

I could still hear Bobby's voice in my head. _I…um…honestly? I don't know._

How could he _not_ know? How could he doubt my commitment?

"Is that our working theory?" Ross asked, pulling me from my thoughts. "That a threat was made against Logan?"

"It's the most plausible. Kidnapping Carolyn from a public location without a trace…I just don't buy it."

"But it could be that she…" Logan began, and I had to cut him off. I'd had enough.

"And she _didn't_ just walk away," I insisted. He and Bobby both looked at me, and then Mike opened his mouth to say something, so I added, "I don't give a shit what that text message says. And you shouldn't either."

I had to get out of this house. I needed to get my focus back.

My _friend _Carolyn needed my help, and those two dumbasses were going to sit there and honestly consider the possibility that she'd walked away.

I grabbed my coat and put it on, deciding on my plan of attack. I was going to go back to Steve-O's and show the pictures around.

I told the others what I was going to do, and instructed Ross to call me with any news, and then I headed for the door. Bobby could come or not. I could probably use a minute to myself, but then again, maybe I needed to air my grievances with him before I exploded.

I heard Logan ask Bobby if he was going with me, but I didn't hear Bobby's response.

Instead, I heard Mike's phone ring, so I turned around and went back to the doorway.

"Is it a text?" I asked him. I watched as he looked at his phone, then tossed it onto the table and ran past me.

"She's here!" he shouted.

My anger was momentarily forgotten as the adrenaline kicked in and we all ran after Mike out into the street.

"Do you see anything?" Bobby asked him, but he shook his head and suggested that we split up.

I went with Bobby.

"You were going to go to Steve-O's alone?" he said quietly as we searched the neighborhood.

"You could've come," I replied.

"Alex…" he said in frustration.

"Now is not the time," I deflected.

He stopped my progress as we walked through an alley a block away from Mike's house. I looked up at him and my annoyance dissipated somewhat. I couldn't help it. He seemed so vulnerable and confused.

"Why are you so mad?" he asked me. And it really wasn't the time considering Rhonda may be out here somewhere, but I couldn't leave him in the dark.

"Do you honestly think that I would ever walk away from you?"

"You're upset that I'm insecure?"

"I'm upset that you don't believe in my commitment to you. You should trust me, just like Mike should be trusting Carolyn. But you haven't ruled out the possibility that she left him because of your _own_ self-doubt. You believe it could happen to you, so you still think it might be happening to him."

"It _could _be," he insisted. "We don't know what goes on in their personal lives."

"They spend the majority of their personal lives with us," I replied dismissively. As arguments went, it was lame. "Come on, Bobby. Admit it. You're still waiting for the other shoe to drop, aren't you? You still think that all of what we have, everything that we feel for each other, is going to one day go away."

I held his gaze as he attempted to respond.

"Sometimes, yes," he reluctantly admitted. "Don't you? I mean, ever? Don't you have the random fear that we won't last forever?"

"No, I don't," I told him, and then I walked away from him and left the alley to join the others.

I needed to think about what we'd said, and it really wasn't the right time for us to be having an argument.

But our feelings were too close to the surface because they kept infusing into our unrelated conversation.

"I think that we sit on it another day," Bobby said carefully after I'd just agreed with Ross that we needed to call the cops. "If we can find out about the phone, that'll be another lead to track down."

"But how long will that take?" I argued. "What does it hurt to have back-up on this?"

"Rhonda is obviously watching us," Bobby said. "If we bring in more cops, we don't know how she'll react."

"She didn't mention cops in her text," I replied, doing my best not to yell. I felt like we were having an argument over top of an underlying argument, but I couldn't stop myself. "This isn't a standard kidnapping. There's not going to be a ransom demand."

"I'm just saying…"

Bobby's reply was interrupted by Mike's phone. I watched as Mike picked it up and looked at it.

"It's another text from Rhonda," he said and then he read the message aloud.

My first thought was about the choice of wording.

_Call it in to the cops_.

That was a cop-way of saying it.

Not _call the police_, but _call it in_.

She was listening.

I looked at Bobby and was overwhelmed with a sense of relief to find that we still had our connection. Not only had he reached the same conclusion, but he'd also managed to convey his thought to me. _There's a bug in this house_.

He and I both stood from the table at the same time. Despite our current discord, we were still in synch.

I motioned for Logan and Ross to be quiet while Bobby scribbled a note and showed it to Mike.

We all started conducting the search. Bobby and I carried on a meaningless conversation for whoever was listening. It would've been nice to have the proper detection device, but a visual search would have to do for now.

If we couldn't find anything, maybe Ross could call in a favor. If he had any left.

Because I was pretty sure that the house was bugged, and by watching the intensity with which Bobby searched, he was confident, too.

_At least he's confident about something_, my inner snark chimed in.

But I shoved that down for now. He and I would have to talk later.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when Mike dropped an entire silverware tray onto the floor, but I struggled quickly to come up with a comment that would explain the noise. If we did find a bug, we wanted to keep that as our little secret.

"Mike, you can't keep throwing a temper tantrum every time we hit a snag. You need to keep your cool," Bobby said smoothly before I could think of something.

I gave him an appreciative nod, and then I looked over at Logan. He was leaning against the counter, and it didn't appear as though he'd heard a word that Bobby said.

He'd turned inside of himself, and I was afraid for where his mind was. He must have felt me looking at him, because he brought his eyes up to mine, but then I noticed something off.

I glanced at the cabinet next to him and then made a quick check of the others before moving to stand in front of Logan. I reached past his head and pointed at the cabinet handle.

Mike glanced at it, and then frowned as the realization hit him. I waved Bobby over and it only took a quick look for him to give me a nod of confirmation.

This certainly explained a lot. Rhonda wasn't as all-knowing and all-seeing as we'd thought. She had just been smart enough to plant a bug.

Ross' phone started ringing, and I watched as he looked at the display.

"It's Liz," he told us. "I'm going to take this outside."

He walked away, leaving the three of us in the kitchen, trying to determine the best course of action.

"I'm going to go to the office. You two go home and get some sleep," Mike said.

"What are you going to do at the office?"

"She's got to have help. There's no way that Rhonda is pulling this off on her own. I'm going to see if I can figure out who else is behind this."

And then he motioned for us to follow, so we all went outside. We had no way of knowing how many bugs were in the house, but now that we'd found one, Ross would bring in a professional to do a sweep.

"You're not really going to the office," I said once we were out. Ross was standing out on the sidewalk, still on the phone.

"I was planning on it," he said. "I'm hoping that my comment about her having an accomplice will spur her into some kind of action. We know from experience that when she gets mad, she makes mistakes."

"Come back to our house with us," I countered, despite the fact that I wanted to have time alone with Bobby. "We can work from there, and you can get a little bit of rest. I know you don't want to quit looking for her, but if you don't take a break, you're going to burn out."

"I don't know…"

"She's right," Bobby said. Mike reluctantly nodded his head. Ross hung up from his call and walked over to us.

"The no-name that called Carolyn was paid for with cash at a convenience store in Trenton."

"When?" I asked. Obviously, the call had been from his detective instead of Liz, and Ross was smart enough to cover that fact.

"Six o'clock this evening," Ross said with a smile.

"Security tape?" Mike asked hopefully.

"I've got a guy headed out there now to take a look at it. It'll take him a couple of hours."

"We're going to go by our place and work from there," I told him. "Are you coming with us?"

"I think I'm going to swing by to see Liz first. As soon as I hear something on the tape, or anything else, I'll come by. Just call me if you get anything."

"Of course," I agreed.

"Thanks for your help, Captain," Mike said.

"Don't thank me until we find her."

TBC...


	5. Chapter 5

**Bobby POV**

* * *

I really needed to clear the air with Alex.

I couldn't focus on the current situation until I knew that we were okay, but she was all over the map on this one.

She was hostile and short-tempered, and yet focused because she'd instantly picked up on the verbiage in the text which had clued us in to the bug.

And she'd spotted the bug. That was pretty impressive.

But we were still off and I needed us to be…not off.

She was reading too much into my remarks from earlier, and we really just needed to talk.

But then she'd invited Logan back to our house.

Which was fine, really. He needed somewhere to go, and I did want to keep an eye on him, but I'd been hoping for at least a few minutes alone with my wife.

She drove our car the ten blocks to our place and found a place to park. No one said a word the whole way.

Once upstairs and in our apartment, we all sat down in the living room.

"I don't know what to do next," Mike admitted quietly.

"We're going to get some rest for a couple of hours," Alex told him. "And by then, we'll know something about the security footage. Once we confirm who purchased the phone, we can move forward from there."

"What if it's Rhonda? Then that won't help us at all."

"One step at a time," she said.

I just listened and thought about everything I wanted to say to her once I had her alone.

Mike's phone buzzed and we all three jumped to our feet.

"Is it Rhonda?" I asked.

"Carolyn. Or her phone anyway," he amended as he clicked on the text.

_**I'll meet you, but I'm not coming back. Sunday at 7PM at Inwood Hill Park**_.

"I'll call Ross and have him check the tower location again," I offered. I went into the kitchen and grabbed a beer while I waited for Ross to answer.

He was agreeable to check the tower, and said he'd call back.

I put my phone down on the counter, finished off the beer, and went back in the living room to find Alex holding Mike tightly against her. An unfounded shot of jealousy went through me at the sight of them.

_What was wrong with me_?

She was comforting him. I knew that.

But we were having troubles, too and right now she seemed to be more worried about him than me.

"Ross will handle it," I said crossly as I walked closer to them. She patted him a couple of times on the back and then broke apart from him.

"We need to rest. Are you coming?" I added to Alex.

"Yeah," she agreed, although her eyes didn't leave Mike. I was moving quickly past irritated and straight onto completely pissed off. "I'll get you a blanket and pillow so that you can lie down on the couch."

Mike nodded his consent, so she went to the closet and got out the supplies.

But instead of handing them to him, she starting fixing up the make-shift bed.

"He can do it," I said impatiently.

"I'm just trying to…"

"Alex, he can make his own damn bed," I yelled.

She stood up and looked at me, her eyes narrowing.

And okay, so maybe there wasn't a call for my rudeness, but I felt like if we didn't talk in the next five minutes, everything was going to go up in smoke.

"I've got it Alex," Mike spoke up as he looked back and forth between the two of us. "Thanks."

"I'm…" I began to explain, but then I quit.

What was I going to say?

_I'm sorry I snapped at my wife in front of you, but right now we need to talk and she'd doing everything in her power to procrastinate…_

I didn't need to get into that with him.

"Hey, it's fine," he replied with a wave of his hand. "I've got this. You two get some rest."

I nodded at Mike thoughtfully and then went down the hall. I didn't look at Alex, but I knew that she was behind me.

I wondered idly if I should be ashamed of myself for feeling jealous, but I pushed that thought aside.

Right or wrong, I _did_ feel jealous, and I wasn't going to try to censor my feelings.

I flung open our bedroom door and waited just inside for Alex.

And then, because I knew the bedroom doorway was visible from the couch, I pulled her up against me and kissed her, hard.

I knew that I took her by surprise, because it took her a second to respond, but she _did_ respond. Enthusiastically.

I instantly felt just a little bit better about everything.

And it definitely didn't hurt that I knew Mike was watching.

Because twice in the past few hours, I'd seen her react to him in ways that I had previously thought were reserved for me. She'd touched his face…she'd hugged him in a much more than friendly way…

And it wasn't that I thought he had a thing for her, or she for him. But I did feel the need to re-establish the general order of things.

She was _my_ wife.

I kept kissing her as the anger was slowly replaced by fervor.

And then because I wasn't into being on the giving end of voyeurism, I walked her further into the room and then reached back with my foot and slammed the door closed.

"I thought we were going to talk," she said breathily when I briefly pulled my mouth away from hers.

She was still in her dress, the one she'd worn to her parents' house. That felt like an eternity ago. We'd made out on the ferry and I'd promised to bring her home and ravage her.

Well, I was still going to make good on my promise.

"We'll talk later," I ground out as I ran my hands up under her dress. I hardened instantly at the discovery of how little she had on underneath.

And then I got jealous again, thinking how Mike had been holding her against him while she was wearing this thin little dress.

And suddenly, I was like a man possessed.

I didn't care that my arm was throbbing from over-exertion of the injured muscle and I didn't care that my best friend was twenty feet away in our living room and probably listening to every sound.

In fact, I hoped that he was.

Maybe later I'd analyze how twisted that was, but right now all I could think about was getting her out of that dress.

And okay, so that wasn't all I could think about, but that was the first step.

"Have I mentioned how much I like this dress?" I said as I ran my hands over it in an effort to find the method in which to remove it.

"Uh huh," she replied. She was working my belt buckle as fast as she could, and we were still walking backwards, seeking out some hard surface to press up against.

At last her back hit the far wall. I leaned into her, increasing the pressure between us and temporarily easing the aching need I had to be inside of her.

"You're not going to say some…" she began, still breathing hard as she kissed me intermittently between pulling my pants and boxers off. "Cheesy line about liking the dress better on the floor, are you?"

I barked out a laugh, appreciating her ability to infuse humor into this intense moment, but still…my frustration was increasing due to my inability to get her dress undone.

"How does this thing come off?" I asked, running my hands beneath it again to appease my desire with the feel of her skin. "I'm ready to rip it off."

"Rip it," she agreed.

But I liked it, so instead I just grabbed onto her panties and quickly pulled them down.

I could work around the dress.

"Hold onto me," I ordered, knowing that my arm would have trouble supporting her. But if she kept her arms around my neck, my one arm would be enough.

And that would free up my other hand for other things.

She obliged me quickly and within seconds I was thankfully buried deep inside of her.

I didn't wait for any kind of adjustment period, but instead I repeated the action again and again, over and over until I had her right on the edge, completely at my mercy.

And that was right where I wanted her, because damn it, I wanted to hear her call out my name.

And I don't mean for Mike's benefit. I'm not that petty.

I wanted her to scream my name for _me_.

I wanted to hear her at the peak of passion and have it be my name on her lips.

I got my wish. In fact, before long, the neighbors were banging on our wall again.

It didn't even matter that we were up against the outside wall instead of the interior one…she was that loud.

And I was a little bit loud myself. Because that had to be about the most intense encounter we'd had to date, and that was saying something.

"Are you okay?" I asked her after I'd been standing there panting for nearly five minutes. She still had her arms around my neck and her back up against the wall.

"Yeah," she answered. And then she looked at me and gave me such a smile. "I thought we were coming in here to fight," she admitted. "This was so much better."

"We can still fight if you want to," I offered, although I was smiling, too. It was hard to be mad after a session like that.

"No," she said as she slowly extricated herself from me. I watched in amazement as she effortlessly removed the dress and tossed it onto a chair. "But we do need to talk."

"Yes we do," I agreed. "Let's get in the bed, and we'll talk."

So we did. I knew that we didn't have a lot of time, but airing our issues was more important than sleep right now.

"You were jealous," she began once she'd positioned herself up against the headboard and pulled my head onto her chest. Her fingers ran absently through my hair.

"Yes. I know that I shouldn't be…"

"I can understand that," she interrupted. "And I'm sorry. I feel bad for him. And I was trying to make him feel better. But I shouldn't have done it at your expense."

I thought about her words, glad that she had recognized to some extent how her actions had made me feel.

"And you know that I don't feel anything sexual for him. It was about comfort." She paused for a minute, but continued caressing my hair. If I'd thought it was hard to be mad at her before…

"And I was maybe being a little nicer to him because I was mad at you," she added.

"You were mad at me because of what I said."

"Right. I don't understand how you can doubt me like that."

I sat up so that I could look at her because this was too important to screw up.

"It wasn't about doubting you. I know that you love me. I worry that some day you might find some one you love _more_. I'm worried about how long I'll continue to make you happy. You can't fault me for questioning myself."

"Can't you see how that feels like a shot at me? Do you think that _you'll _ever find some one who you love more than me?"

"No," I replied quickly. The thought never entered my mind.

"As sure as you are about that, that's how sure I am about the same thing. We've been through too much together. Meeting some guy in a coffee shop one day is not going to spark my interest. There's no history there. I don't love you because you're sexy or sweet or smart or my best friend…I love you because you're _all_ of those things. That's something special that's irreplaceable. That's what I wanted you to understand."

"Alex," I whispered, bringing my hand up to her cheek. "I'm sorry. I…."

"Don't be sorry. I shouldn't have jumped on you for being honest. I'm glad that you were strong enough to tell me the truth even when you knew I wanted to hear something else."

"I did run the risk of facing your wrath," I teased, leaning down to kiss her again.

"I was pretty mad," she agreed. "I'm sorry for that. This whole thing has really gotten in my head. And I got frustrated with Mike for thinking that Carolyn would leave, and then I projected that onto you and…"

A knocking on the door interrupted our moment, but thankfully we had worked through the worst of it.

"Yeah?" I called out.

"Ross just called. His guy got an image of a man from the security footage."

"A guy? Who is it?"

"He hasn't identified him yet, but he sent me a picture. And Ross is headed this way, so I figured you two might want to…um…"

"Yeah, we're coming," I said quickly.

"Great," Alex muttered as we climbed out of the bed. "I didn't think about him being right in the other room. I'm sure he heard everything."

"I think he knows that we have sex," I teased.

"I know but like that?" she asked as she pulled on some jeans. "I was kind of loud."

"Kind of?" I said with a laugh. "Honey, you were loud enough for the door man to hear you."

She threw a t-shirt at me which I then pulled on and within another minute, we were dressed and ready to leave the bedroom.

But before I could open the door, she stopped me with a hand on my arm.

"I love you. Don't ever forget that, okay?"

"Okay."

We went into the living room and found Logan pacing the small space.

"So let's see this guy who bought the cell that called Carolyn," I stated as I held my hand out for the phone so that I could look at the grainy picture.

"And we don't know who it is?" Alex asked.

"I do," I said as recognition flooded through me.

"Really?"

"Yeah. It's Adam Taggart."

TBC...


	6. Chapter 6

**Logan POV**

* * *

The latest text from Carolyn's phone had me reeling because I so desperately wanted to see her.

It hadn't even been twelve hours, but that didn't matter. Not when I was beginning to wonder if I would ever see her again.

Goren got up and mumbled something about calling Ross. He was in a mood, and I was going to blame it on being excessively tired.

I looked at Alex, but had no idea what to say. This whole thing had me at a loss. She seemed to recognize my despair and she stood up to hug me.

I felt the weight of the situation bearing down on me and I held onto her as though my very life depended on it.

I hadn't considered that I was holding her tighter than was appropriate until I heard Goren come back into the room and snap out that Ross was going to check on the cell tower used for the text.

His tone gradually permeated my brain, and I slowly pulled back from Alex.

_His_ wife.

She hugged me fairly regularly, but I could understand why this time it was different.

She and he were in disagreement about something, something more than the case. And she was putting me first. That thought hadn't occurred to me before, but it did now.

"We need to rest. Are you coming?" he said to Alex.

"Yeah," she agreed, although she kept looking at me. I think she was afraid that I was getting ready to have a breakdown or something. "I'll get you a blanket and pillow so that you can lie down on the couch."

I nodded at her and she went to the closet.

I was starting to feel bad that I was infringing on their alone time. I'd never experienced emotional support from a female other than Carolyn, and I have to say that it was a nice feeling.

But I didn't want it misinterpreted.

"He can do it," Goren said impatiently when Alex started to spread the blanket on the sofa.

"I'm just trying to…"

"Alex, he can make his own damn bed," he yelled.

_Oh shit_.

He was really pissed, and he wasn't backing down despite the look she was giving him. That look would've made a lesser man run for cover.

"I've got it Alex," I said quickly. I did not want to be the cause of issues between them. I was about a minute away from walking out the door. "Thanks."

"I'm…" Goren started, but he stalled out, clearly unsure what to say. I didn't need an explanation. His reaction was justified.

"Hey, it's fine," I told him. "I've got this. You two get some rest."

Although in my head, I amended that to say _you two have sex and then talk this thing out._

Goren turned and went down the hall, and Alex threw me a quick apologetic glance before following.

I had no doubt that they would fix this, but I wanted them to do it now.

When they fought, it gave me a sick feeling, like a kid would get when they hear their mom and dad fighting.

And I know that seems crazy, but I looked up to them.

I thought they had a mature and trusting relationship, and that was how I wanted to be with Carolyn.

_And yet I'd jumped on board with that text_, I reminded myself. How mature and trusting was that?

And Alex had tried to tell me that I was being an ass, but…

I glanced down the hall just as Goren laid a kiss on Alex that had me really missing Carolyn.

I watched because, well…I don't know why. I guess I couldn't look away.

I was glad that it seemed they were both intent on resolving their issue, and I was also relieved that not for a second did I wish that I were Goren. I mean, Alex was great and I loved her, but I didn't want her like _that_.

I wanted Carolyn.

The slamming of the bedroom door made me realize that I was still staring, and then I felt like a peeping Tom. I chastised myself and sat down on the couch, pulling out my cell phone again to re-read the message.

And that was when it hit me.

Without a doubt, Carolyn hadn't sent the message, and it was no longer just a slowly-accepted gut instinct. It was fact.

Carolyn was a Marine. She still used military time, even twenty years after her discharge.

Emotions stormed through me as I thought about this new information.

So she was definitely being held against her will.

Rhonda was most likely behind it and now possibly someone else.

I was anxious to see who had purchased the cell phone. It _could_ be Rhonda. She could be orchestrating the whole thing. She could've bought the phone in Trenton, driven back to the city, made the call to Carolyn and ordered her to leave the bar.

_And then what? _

How would she continue to subdue Carolyn if Rhonda was working alone and there was likely no longer a threat against me?

There had to be someone else. Someone who either maintained the threat to me, or someone who took Carolyn to an undisclosed location while Rhonda maintained the threat.

Otherwise, Carolyn would've fought her tooth and nail.

My eyes drifted closed as I continued to work through the situation, but the sound of Alex yelling had me on my feet with my heart pounding.

I took four steps toward the bedroom when I realized what I was listening to.

_Oh my God_.

I guess they're working out their frustrations in the best possible way.

I stood still for a moment longer in the hallway before heading into the kitchen. It was a little further away, but I could still hear them.

I felt bad for listening, but jeez…how could I not?

I got a beer out of the refrigerator and sat down at the table. I couldn't keep my thoughts from wandering again to Carolyn.

Where was she? Was she hurt? Was she waiting for me to find her?

That last thought had me shaking my head at my own insanity.

Carolyn wasn't going to sit around and wait to be rescued. I had no doubt that she was at this very moment acting like the quintessential female MacGyver.

After awhile, the noise in the other room trailed off. I was on my second beer by this point, so I finished it and then went back to the living room.

But I wasn't in there long before I heard Goren's phone ringing. I had seen it on the counter when I was in the kitchen, so I went back in there and answered the phone.

"Goren's phone."

"Logan?"

"Yeah."

"It's Ross. My guy got a still off the security footage. It's not great, but it's something."

"Rhonda?"

"No. It's a man. I'll send it to you."

"Send it to my phone," I told him. I wasn't familiar with Goren's new phone, and didn't want to waste time trying to figure out how to view a picture.

"Done," he said after another second. "I'm on my way to you guys."

I hung up and took a look at the picture when it came into my phone. I had no idea who it was.

I then went to get the Gorens up, and when I returned to the living room, I couldn't keep from pacing.

It was a man. This was the accomplice.

Was it another cop?

Rhonda had a thing for cops.

Had she managed to convince another one to break the law?

It wasn't a stretch. Rhonda was a good-looking woman, and she had no trouble using sex as a weapon.

"So let's see this guy who bought the cell that called Carolyn," Goren said as the two of them entered the room. He held out his hand and I gave him my phone.

"And we don't know who it is?" Alex asked as she looked at the picture.

"I do," Goren said after a moment.

"Really?" I asked and with his declaration, a fresh flood of adrenaline rushed through me.

This was a lead.

"Yeah. It's Adam Taggart."

"The asshole cop from the 6-9? His brother?" I asked.

"One and the same," Goren agreed.

"So how does this fit?" Alex asked. "How would he get hooked up with Rhonda?"

"Taggart wanted revenge on Carolyn," Goren said. "Last month when we interviewed him about his relationship with Stoat, he admitted that he only helped him because Stoat promised to help him get payback on Carolyn."

"What?" I shouted. I hadn't heard about this. Not to this extent, anyway. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I thought she would. And Taggart's in prison. His privileges were taken."

"Why isn't Adam Taggart in jail?" Alex asked. "You picked him up on assault."

"I don't know. But now that we know who it is, we can check him out. You know, Rhonda came back onto the scene not long after that whole incident," Goren pointed out. "She could've been following you, or had a relationship with another cop who was keeping her up to speed on you. There wasn't much in the papers about Taggart's crimes, but it was all over the department."

"So what's the purpose of the meeting tonight?" Alex posed. "Is it a set-up? Why would they bother? Why take Carolyn if their purpose is to get you? They could've just taken you."

"Because that's how Rhonda got Taggart's help. Twenty bucks says that she visited him in prison and made a deal. They would work together to get us both. And this way, she had the added benefit of getting a little mental torture on me first," I stated flatly.

This was bad. This meant that the kidnapping wasn't just about me, which meant that Carolyn was much more likely to be hurt.

"And the message definitely wasn't sent by her," I added. I'd almost forgotten that tidbit.

"You already knew that," Alex said.

"I mean now I _know_. Carolyn always uses military time. She would've said 1900 not seven p.m."

Goren nodded, and looked slightly irritated with himself for not having picked up on that.

"So we've got about sixteen hours to find out as much as we can and come up with a plan for the meeting," Alex concluded. "We catch Rhonda when she meets with you, and we get her to tell us where Taggart is holding Carolyn."

"If he's still holding her," I said quietly.

I didn't even want to think about what he might be doing to her. I couldn't. Not if I was going to hold it together.

The knock on the door distracted me from the downward spiral my mind insisted on taking, so I gratefully let Ross into the apartment.

"Adam Taggart," I told him as he came in. "Goren recognized him."

Ross didn't hesitate, but immediately pulled out his cell phone.

"Where are you?" I heard him say. "I need something else, so get Harker to do it, but don't tell him that it's for me...It's above board, I promise. Have him pull everything he can find on Adam Taggart. He's from North Carolina, but he was arrested in New York last month for assault."

Ross finished out his conversation, and then followed me into the living room.

"My guy is still driving back from Trenton, but he's going to get his partner working on it," he said. "Where are we?"

We quickly filled him in.

"So now our supposition is that Rhonda conned Taggart into helping her. He's in prison, so his brother is doing the legwork, just like last time. They grabbed Carolyn by suggesting a threat to Mike," Ross stated. "But so are they still working together, or have they split up?"

I hadn't considered that. Once the abduction was completed, Rhonda had no use for Carolyn anymore. She had her phone, so she could toy with me that way. And she could use it to lead me around by the short hairs.

"I don't know," I admitted slowly. Again, my mind raced through possibilities.

_What would Taggart do to her_?

The bottom line was that he wouldn't have any reason to keep her alive.

He didn't take her only to set her loose again.

He didn't take her to hurt me.

Taggart took her to hurt her, to get revenge on her for busting his brother.

And she would recognize him from that night at the strip club, which meant that his plan was for her not to make it out of this alive.

TBC...


	7. Chapter 7

**Rodgers POV**

* * *

Danny came by the morgue and filled me in on everything that was happening. I had expected it to be bad, but this was so much worse than I anticipated.

Unfortunately, he hadn't been able to stay for long and as much as I would've liked to, I couldn't leave work to go with him.

Because I did have a boss to please, and although I could often times come and go at will, I had been doing that a lot lately. The boss had asked me specifically to work through the weekend, so I felt that I needed to do so unless a seriously major crisis occurred in which I could actually be of some help.

At this point, I wouldn't be much use other than moral support.

Although, considering my area of expertise, I hoped that they never would need my help.

I gave a lot of thought to Carolyn throughout the course of the day.

I wondered what she was going through, and I thought back to the time that she and Mike had welcomed me into their home.

I barely knew her then. In anything other than a professional capacity anyway.

But she had been perfectly willing to put her life on hold to help me sort out mine.

There weren't many people like that anymore, and I felt lucky to know her, and to be able to consider her a friend.

She wasn't outspoken like Alex, so it was going to take longer to get beneath the surface, but I had a good feeling that it would be worth it.

I only prayed that I would still get the opportunity to learn more about her.

Although I _had_ heard some stories about her.

I'd gotten together with her and Alex a time or two over the past month, and while it was usually Alex doing the telling, Carolyn would add a modest detail every now and then.

I knew how she had single-handedly taken out two good ol' boys down in North Carolina. And she'd offered to go one-on-one against a man twice her size in order to end a stand-off.

Not to mention the incredible patience and understanding that she must possess in order to be able to love a man like Mike Logan.

And it wasn't that I didn't see Mike's assets. _Literally_, I thought with a smile.

But he surely wasn't an easy man.

So I knew that Carolyn was smart and tough and wily, but unfortunately that wasn't always enough. It only took one bullet…or two meaty hands around a throat...or something equally indefensible to end it all.

I knew that all too well.

I didn't hear back from Danny until nearly seven o'clock. I was on hour thirty-six of my forty-eight hour shift and sucking down my twelfth cup of coffee.

"Logan's supposed to be meeting with Rhonda out at Inwood Hill Park," he told me. "I'm going to have my phone off."

"Okay. How's he holding up?"

"Not well. It's been a long day, and everything we're learning is bad news," he admitted.

"Do you need me there?" I offered.

Maybe this was the seriously major crisis. If something happened to Carolyn…

"The Gorens and I will have the park entrances covered. It's not that big of a place. I've got Bernard stopping by to give us a hand, too. I think we'll be alright."

"Bernard? The new guy?"

"Yeah. He might make the cut."

"Call me when you know something, okay? Anything."

"I will. I promise."

I hung up the phone, but couldn't shake the feeling of portent.

And the knot in my stomach got increasingly worse as the minutes dragged by.

I wasn't working on an autopsy at the moment, but rather finishing a report from one I'd done earlier, so I kept looking at the clock.

Seven-ten.

Seven-fifteen.

Seven-twenty.

Surely the meeting had taken place by now. Were they in pursuit? Had they caught Rhonda? Had they found Carolyn?

The waiting was killing me.

When my phone rang, I snatched it up before the first ring finished.

"Rodgers," I barked into the phone, because I hadn't checked the display.

"Got a body for you."

Obviously, it wasn't Danny. It was my dispatcher.

"Okay," I sighed. "Where?"

And when he told me the address, I very nearly broke down.

"In the house or outside?" I asked, struggling desperately to keep the panic out of my voice. I got up from my desk and grabbed the van keys from the hook.

"Outside. On the sidewalk in front of the house."

His reply only barely tempered my fear. It was possible that it was unrelated.

"Who is it?" I asked as I made my way out of the morgue.

"What?"

"Who is it?" I repeated, even though I knew that we weren't in the business of worrying about the identity. That was for the cops. And us if we needed to make a determination later, but as far as on-scene went, it was irrelevant. I still couldn't help myself. "Is there an I.D.?"

"Dr. Rodgers, we don't ask that," the dispatcher reminded me in confusion.

"Do you at least know if the victim is male or female?"

"Uh, no. I'm sorry. I don't have any details."

I hung up the phone and hustled through the parking lot.

I could feel the bile rising in my throat as I fought against the encroaching fear.

I debated calling the 6-9, maybe insist on getting the names of the officers on scene so that I could find out what I needed to know, but then I decided to just concentrate on my driving.

If I did that, I'd probably get there faster than I could learn the answers any other way.

But it just couldn't be her.

And I kept telling myself that over and over as I maneuvered the van at top speed to the indicated address.

The home of the Logans.

**

* * *

**

Ross POV

I called Liz just before we went into the park because I didn't want her to worry if she couldn't reach me by phone.

It was the courteous thing to do, and I was trying hard to be a better husband.

I had barely talked to her all day, but she'd been working and I usually don't interrupt her while she's working if I can help it, but in all honesty, I was missing her a little bit. She'd been at the damn morgue since early Saturday morning.

So I called her to fill her in on the latest, and to let her know that I'd be inaccessible.

And then I went to my previously determined location in the park and waited.

We'd checked the entire park out earlier in the day, and found the best places to keep an eye on the entrances.

There were four of them, so I'd enlisted Bernard's help. He was off the clock, which was good since I was really off the grid at the moment.

I'd sort of made up my mind that if this thing continued on into Monday, I might have to come up with some sort of creative explanation for what had been going on.

Maybe I'd get Alex to help me with that.

I shook my head at the irony of my thoughts and checked my watch again.

It was seven-thirty.

I had a feeling by this point that Rhonda wasn't going to show, but the biggest question was _why not?_

Had she spotted me or the others?

Did she sense a sting?

Or did she have another reason for bringing Mike to this location? What would that do for her?

I considered that for a moment while I kept my eyes trained on the entrance.

For starters, it would let her know where he was.

And where he_ wasn't_.

"Ready to hang it up, Logan?" I said into the com device.

"Ten more minutes," he replied.

And I didn't blame him for wanting to stick with it, but at the same time, I was starting to get a bad feeling about this whole thing.

_Why would she do this_, I asked myself for the hundredth time.

Had something gone wrong? Is that why she hadn't shown?

Maybe Carolyn had overpowered her. It was a plausible explanation, but if that was the case, wouldn't she have called Logan by now?

We didn't give it ten more minutes. We gave it fifteen. And still no Rhonda.

"Okay," Logan conceded. "Let's wrap it up."

I moved from my spot and walked to the rendezvous point. As I did so, I clicked my phone back to vibrate, but I hadn't even put it back in my pocket before it started buzzing.

"Danny!"

"Liz? What's wrong?" The fear coiled in my stomach at the sound of my wife in such an uncharacteristic state of distress.

"I'm at the Logans," she said, and then her voice cracked. "There's a body…"

"What? Is it her?"

"Is what her?" Mike shouted, running toward me. He had just come up from the bench where he'd been waiting. "Is that Rodgers?"

I held out my hand to Logan, getting him to stop talking so that I could hear her.

"I don't know," Liz was saying. "I…I can't…her face is beaten…"

"Oh my God," I whispered, and I ran my hand over my face, completely at a loss for what to say to Logan.

"It's a female," Liz continued. "About five-two, dark hair, slight build…but I can't say for sure. I just don't know."

"Okay, calm down. There's no ID on the body?"

"Body?" Logan yelled. "Oh no…no, no, no…"

Logan turned away from me and started walking aimlessly. He was coming completely unglued.

Hell, we all were.

Both Gorens had just shown up and quickly caught on to the situation. Bobby started walking with Mike, and Alex stood staring at me in disbelief.

I noticed Bernard standing a few feet back from everyone. I'd almost forgotten he was here.

"That's the thing," she said. "There is ID. It says Carolyn Barek."

"Don't move her yet," I ordered. "We're on the way."

I hung up with her and called to Logan.

"We don't know anything yet. Let's go."

"I'll drive," Bernard offered, and I was grateful. Of the five of us, he was the only one not overcome by emotion.

We piled into his sedan and he turned on the lights and sirens. I gave him the address, and then got on the phone with the captain at the 6-9.

"There's a body that's been recovered in your jurisdiction," I stated. "I wanted to give you a heads-up that this is now a Major Case investigation."

"Why is that?" the captain argued.

"The body was placed in front of the home of one of my former detectives, and the suspect is currently under investigation by my department. If you need further explanation, you can take it up with the commissioner. Are we clear?" I shouted.

I didn't want to waste my time explaining myself to this jackass. I was the captain of Major Case. If I wanted a damn case, I was going to take it.

I hung up the phone and looked at Bernard as he skillfully weaved his way through traffic.

"You're now officially on the clock," I told him. "This case is yours. Don't screw it up."

We arrived down the block from the Logans' house, and Bernard got as close as he could due to the barricaded scene. He parked crossways in the middle of the road, right up next to the crime scene tape, and then we all got out of the car.

I could see Liz bending over the body, and my heart was in my throat.

Logan was walking next to me, slowly as though he didn't want to face reality.

But as we got closer, he sped up and we all kept pace.

"We can't let you in here," one of the officers said as we approached.

"Detective Bernard, Major Case," Bernard said as he flashed the officer his badge and took him by the elbow. "This is my captain. Let them pass."

I was glad that he'd handled it because I felt incapable of doing anything but look at the body.

Was it her?

I narrowed my eyes and tried to find some point of dispute. Something about her that would tell me, _it's not Carolyn_.

"That's her sweater," Logan mumbled, and then he ran the last ten yards before dropping to his knees next to Liz.

I made no effort to stop him from touching the body, nor did Liz, even though we both should have.

Liz stood up and came next to me while Alex and Bobby each knelt down on either side of Logan.

"Still no confirmation?" I asked her, still watching Logan. He reached over and picked up her hand, and I noticed the wedding rings firmly in place on the victim.

Carolyn's were unique. I remembered wondering when I'd first seen the engagement ring why Logan had picked sapphire, but after seeing it on her, I'd understood.

It suited her perfectly.

And as I looked at the rings now, I saw that the stone sparkled dark blue under the police spotlights, and my hopes were dashed.

TBC...


	8. Chapter 8

**Logan POV**

* * *

I don't believe in God.

I probably did once, when I was little. _Really_ little.

But by the time I was five and I became the object of my mother's hatred, I began to have my doubts.

If there was a God, then why would He let something like this happen?

When I got a little older, I spoke with my priest about it.

He assured me of God's existence and that I only needed to keep the faith and be a good person, and good things would come to me.

And then that same priest molested me.

I got home late that day, still reeling from the shameful things that I'd had done to me, and then my mother had beaten me for being late. Then she sent me to the liquor store, because after having to deal with the likes of me, she deserved a drink.

That was the day I knew for sure that God didn't really care about what happened to me.

And maybe it was because I wasn't worthy. Maybe I'd been such a bad kid that God had already given up on me.

But whatever it was, I never asked for His help again.

Oh, there'd been times over the years where I may have tossed out a prayer.

Especially recently.

Despite my luck in the relationship aspect of my life, I'd certainly hit a rough patch with everything else. The danger lately had come in abundance.

But I'd never made any _serious_ promises about what I would do or what I would give, if only a situation could turn out as I hoped.

Until today.

On the drive from the park to my house, I thought of every promise I could ever make, and I literally begged God to please not let this be Carolyn.

And I knew it was selfish.

I knew that if it wasn't her then it was someone else, someone else who probably had family who loved her.

But I couldn't think of anyone but Carolyn at the moment.

I only have vague recall of arriving on my street. I got out of the car and walked in a trance-like state towards my sidewalk. Where there was a body. Who was possibly my wife.

That thought slowed my steps and had me concentrating on another prayer.

_I will start going to church again. _

_I will volunteer my time to those less fortunate. _

_I will be a good man. _

_Please, God, don't take my wife from me._

When I was close enough to get a good glimpse at her clothing and I recognized the sweater that Carolyn had been wearing last night, I started running.

I fell down to my knees next to her and choked back a sob as I looked at her battered face.

All of her features were completely unrecognizable.

But despite that, and despite the fact that the clothes were definitely Carolyn's, I didn't think that it was her.

And as my eyes raked over her body, I suddenly knew for sure that it wasn't.

This was not my wife.

I reached over and picked up the woman's left hand. She had Carolyn's rings on.

But all that meant was that someone wanted me to _think_ it was her.

"Mike," Alex whispered.

"It's not her," I said softly, and the emotion hit me full force. Tears began streaming down my face in relief.

"Are you sure?" Goren asked me, and I brought my eyes up to meet his. I didn't have to say it out loud.

_Wouldn't you know Alex anywhere_?

He nodded in understanding.

I stood up and took a step back, scrubbing my hands over my face.

I wanted to take the rings off the poor girl, but I knew I couldn't go that far. Liz had been kind enough to let me touch her in the first place.

Now I'd have to submit my DNA for exclusionary purposes, but that was fine.

I looked back down at the body, amazed by her similarity to Carolyn. If I hadn't _known_ it wasn't her, I wouldn't have known. And then the clothes, the jewelry, the ID…

"Someone went through a lot of trouble to make me believe," I said. Rodgers came closer and I turned to her. "It's not Carolyn."

She and Ross both let out collective sighs of relief.

Bernard approached, and I let him know as well, since he was going to be running the case.

"Why?" Alex asked in confusion as the six of us moved away from the body. "Why would Rhonda fake this?"

"Especially when even if we believed it, I would have found evidence to the contrary within the next twelve hours or so," Liz stated.

"This is only a band-aid. She's buying time for some reason."

"But why? We're nowhere near finding her," Goren spoke up. "She didn't need to pull this stunt, unless it was just another means to torment you."

And he was right. She was still miles ahead of us, so leaving a body like this only served one purpose. To cause me grief, however brief.

"At the risk of sounding callous," Bernard began. "Why not kill her for real? What would her purpose be for keeping her alive?"

I hated the idea, but he was right.

Kidnappers didn't usually hang on to their victims for no reason.

And adults who were kidnapped were usually held for ransom or in conjunction with another crime. And I couldn't bring myself to even think the r-word.

But the truth was that it was risky and costly to keep an adult in confinement.

So if a murder was going to be committed, if Rhonda was willing to go as far as to commit capitol murder, then why would she not just kill the victim that she already had rather than go searching for another one?

We needed to find out the identity of our victim. And I was anxious to hear from Rhonda.

"So how do we play this?" I asked. "I'm thinking we don't let on that we know it's not her."

"I agree," Goren said. "Let her think she's still got that over us."

"And then what?" Ross asked.

"We go back to our place and get on that legwork. We need to finish researching Adam Taggart," I stated. "We know he was given probation for his testimony against Stoat, and we know that he didn't go home to North Carolina. What we don't know is what property would be familiar to him. Where would he be keeping her?"

"And we need to get back on Rhonda. Addison Hooper is in her past somewhere. We need to find her," Goren added.

"What about Trenton?" Alex suggested. "Is it random that the cell phone was purchased there, or was there a reason for Taggart to be there?"

With a plan in place, we went back to Bernard's car. He gave Ross the keys and told him that he was going to wait on-scene for Harker to arrive, and that he'd ride with him when they were finished.

It was coming up on twenty-four hours now that she'd been missing.

_Hold on a little longer, sweetheart. I'll find you. _

**

* * *

**

Carolyn POV

The past twenty-four hours were straight out of a nightmare.

I'd gone to the bathroom at Steve-O's, but as I went down the hall, my phone rang. It was a man whose voice I didn't recognize.

"_I'm watching you. I've got a gun pointed at Logan's head. Unless you follow my instructions, I will kill him. Do you understand me?"_

"_Yes,"_ I'd agreed quickly, my eyes looking around wildly for any sign of the caller. He could see me? That didn't leave many options.

"_Disable the GPS on your phone. Then go through the fire exit and come out of the alley. There's a blue van parked at the end. You have twenty seconds."_

It hadn't been enough time to consider other options. I couldn't run the risk of getting Mike shot just because I wanted to play the hero and outsmart this guy.

So I went. Out the door, down the alley, and into the van.

Once inside the van, I'd had a gun to my head and then within seconds, a needle in my arm.

I have no idea how long I was out of it, but when I woke up, I had duct tape over my mouth and around my wrists and ankles. I'd been stripped down to my underwear and was lying on the floor in a room about the size of a large closet.

I took stock of my situation.

My brain felt slightly fuzzy from whatever drug I'd been given, but aside from that, I wasn't feeling any pain.

Thankfully, I hadn't been beaten, or anything worse. Despite my state of undress, I felt confident that my clothes had been removed for some purpose other than anything sexual.

Maybe to keep me submissive.

Or to shame me somehow.

I don't know, but it sure as hell wasn't going to stop me from kicking this guy's ass whenever he came back.

I tried to roll over so that I could get to my feet, but that was when I realized something else. I was chained to the floor. There was a cuff around my ankle over top of the duct tape and it connected to a drain grate in the floor.

Okay, that was fine.

I could still stand up, but I just had to maneuver a little differently. I got to my feet and looked around again.

I wasn't in complete darkness, which was good, and it looked like I was in a janitor's closet. There were cleaning supplies on the shelves, but since I was tethered to the middle of the room by a very short lead, I couldn't actually reach the shelves.

In fact, I couldn't reach anything in the room.

Okay, plan B.

But before my mind could push ahead, I heard the ringing of a phone. I moved as close to the door as I possibly could and listened intently.

"It's done," a man's voice said. It was Adam Taggart. I'd recognized him the second I opened the van door. I hadn't seen anyone else.

"Yeah, that's what I said, right?" Taggart yelled.

"Seven o'clock? Okay," he agreed. Then he must have hung up, because then he started cursing.

"That fuckin' bitch thinks she can tell me what to do? Fuck her. I'll do whatever the hell I want to. I didn't do this for her. I did it for me. And my brother. I'm not fucking wasting this opportunity."

So he had a woman telling him what to do…it could only be Rhonda.

He'd said _it_ was done. What was done?

Kidnapping me? Or something else?

Because I felt pretty stiff, so I had to bet that I'd been here for awhile. Hours at least. That would indicate that he was referring to something else because he should've already notified her about the kidnapping.

And then I thought about Mike again.

At the very least, he was probably out of his mind with worry.

But was he _okay?_

Had they hurt him even though I'd gone with them willingly?

What if the _it_ that had been done was to kill Mike?

My panic spurred me into action. I had to get free from this duct tape before Taggart came back in here.

I had to jump him and try to take him out.

It would be my only chance.

I brought my hands up to my face and started picking at the duct tape. It was stuck on pretty good, which was another sign that I'd been in this closet for quite awhile.

After what felt like an eternity, I managed to pull a corner loose, and then I ripped off the whole piece. It hurt. It hurt a lot actually, but I used it to fuel my anger. I was going to kill this guy when he opened that door.

I used my teeth to tear away at the binding on my wrists, frantically working to free my hands so that I would be ready for him. I could hear him still talking to himself and slamming things around in the next room.

Where the hell were we anyway?

I hadn't even realized that Adam Taggart was out of jail.

Would Mike know? Would he even know to look?

Or would he be so focused on Rhonda that he wouldn't consider that she had an accomplice?

My heart broke for him, thinking how he must have felt when he realized that I was gone.

Would he know that I'd been forced to leave?

I paused in my motion as that thought slammed into me.

_Oh my God._

Would he think that I would walk away from him? Like I had when I'd gone to South America?

Surely he knew me better than that by now.

_Didn't he_?

I'd have to kick his ass if that's what he thought.

And then I'd hold onto him for dear life because right now I'd give just about anything to be in his arms again.

_Focus, Carolyn_, I chastised. _Or you're going to miss your chance_.

I went back to work on the duct tape, and finally broke my hands apart. I didn't bother to get the tape off my wrists, but rather went straight to work on my ankles.

I would be at a disadvantage, sure.

I would have no weapon, and could only kick with one foot.

And I wouldn't be able to move more than three inches from this spot.

But he was still going to have a fight on his hands.

Because if I was going down, I was sure as hell going to go down swinging.

TBC...


	9. Chapter 9

**Alex POV**

* * *

After hearing Mike's assurance that the body on his sidewalk was not Carolyn, I finally allowed myself to breathe. I hadn't realized just how tense my muscles had been until I slowly began to relax them.

And something else occurred to me.

This was similar to what Bobby must have felt when he opened that trunk expecting to find my dead body inside.

We'd talked about it. He'd told me about the feeling of nausea and terror and helplessness, but it was different experiencing it first hand.

It took me several moments to recover and to start thinking somewhat rationally again.

Whoever had taken her had removed her clothes and her rings and put them on this poor look-alike so that we would think Carolyn was dead.

Why?

As much as I hated to think it, why not just kill _her_?

"Someone went through a lot of trouble to make me believe," Mike said, echoing my thoughts. Liz came to stand beside us and Mike gave her the news. "It's not Carolyn."

I continued to run through possible scenarios in my mind, but nothing was making sense. Detective Bernard joined us, and the six of us stepped away from the body to regroup.

"Why?" I asked finally. "Why would Rhonda fake this?"

Ideas were tossed about, but no one had an answer.

We'd learned earlier in the day that Adam Taggart had gone completely off the grid. He hadn't checked in with his P.O., hadn't returned to his home in North Carolina, and hadn't used his social security number or credit cards. For all intents and purposes, he was a ghost.

Of course, at this point, so was Rhonda. A noisy ghost, but transparent nonetheless.

So why would she fake Carolyn's death?

It just didn't make sense, especially when we weren't even close to tracking her.

Or maybe we were and just didn't realize it. Would one of the leads we were tracking ultimately clue us in on her whereabouts?

The others were laying out the plan of attack, but my new theory made me think about what we did know. We knew where the phone came from.

"What about Trenton?" I suggested. "Is it random that the cell phone was purchased there, or was there a reason for Taggart to be there?"

It was a valid question to which we needed to find an answer.

Liz was going with the body to get straight on the autopsy.

Bernard stayed to wait for Harker so that they could handle the questions at the scene, talking to neighbors or anyone who may have seen the body get dumped.

Ross drove us back to the park and on the way over, Bobby and I decided that we needed to talk to Taggart first, and then we'd go to Trenton.

So Ross and Mike took Bernard's department vehicle and went back to the office to get started on the paper trail while Bobby and I took Ross' car and headed for Rikers.

"What do you think?" I asked him as we checked our weapons. "Do we go at him hard or do we be his friend?"

"I don't think there's a chance in hell he'll buy the friend angle," he replied, confirming my thoughts. "And no good cop, bad cop either. He hates us both. We need to have some kind of leverage against him to make this work."

"What do you have in mind?" I asked him with a smile, knowing damn well that he _did_ have something in mind.

So we worked out our plan and then waited patiently in the visitors' room until Taggart was brought in by a guard.

"Detectives Goren and Eames. My favorite people," he remarked snidely as he sat down at the table. We were both still standing on the opposite side of the room, but after he sat, I approached the table and sat down across from him.

"I don't think that's entirely accurate," I corrected. "I think that Logan and Barek are your favorite people, aren't they? They're the ones you have a hard-on for, aren't they? Especially Barek, right?"

"I don't give a shit about that bitch," he said, but he smiled as he said it and sat back in his chair.

"Sure you do. You helped Stoat set up Goren here just so that he'd help you get her," I reminded him. "But then Stoat got sent to isolation and he couldn't hold up his end of the bargain, could he? I bet that pissed you off."

Taggart shrugged noncommittally, but he still looked smug.

Bobby stayed quiet this whole time, letting me poke at Taggart. I had no doubt that he'd jump in when the time was right.

"I don't need Stoat for shit."

"I guess you don't," I agreed. "You managed to arrange a kidnapping all by yourself, didn't you?"

"I don't know about any kidnapping."

"I think you do. You're not surprised to see us here. You know what this is about."

"I can watch the news just like everybody else."

His month in prison had softened him already. In the head, anyway.

"What exactly did you see on the news?" I asked him innocently.

Taggart looked from me to Bobby and then back to me.

"I don't know about any kidnapping," he said again, sitting up a little straighter.

"That's funny, because the media doesn't know about it either. Which tells me that you _do_ know a little something about it. Maybe you _did_ arrange it all by yourself."

"I don't think that's it," Bobby said, speaking up for the first time.

"What?" Taggart asked uncertainly.

"You didn't arrange it all by yourself. You had help."

"Oh, that's right," I added. "You had help from a _woman_. I bet that just burns your ass, doesn't it?"

"You two have lost it," he denied, although he didn't look confused at my mention of a woman. "You don't know shit. If you did, you wouldn't be here."

"You know what I've lost?" Bobby yelled suddenly. He strode across the room and slammed his hand down on the table. "I've lost my patience with you!"

He leaned across the table, pinning Taggart with his gaze.

"We already know your brother's involved in this," he continued. "You've dragged him into a life of crime _for you_. He got off easy last time, but kidnapping is a felony and he won't walk away without serious time. Is that what you want for your brother? A prison sentence? Because of you?"

"You leave my brother out of this!"

"How can I leave him out of it when you brought him into it?" Bobby shouted, and to punctuate his words, I slammed a print out of the grainy convenience store photo onto the table.

"We've got him," I told him. "He bought a phone in cash, but he was on candid camera. This phone made the last call to Barek before she was abducted. You need to tell us where he would hide out."

"Why would I tell you a damn thing?"

"A woman is dead," I said. "It may or may not have been Adam that killed her, but the longer he stays under the radar, the better he looks for it. If he comes clean now, we'd be willing to listen to whatever he might have to say about how Rhonda talked him into doing this for her."

I stood up and stepped back from the table, watching Taggart. He seemed confused rather than pleased by the implication of my words.

I'd intentionally made it seem as though Carolyn was dead, thinking that he'd be happy about that.

But for some reason, he wasn't.

"Barek is dead?" he asked carefully.

"Wasn't that the plan, big boy?" Bobby asked. He shoved the table out of the way and stood over Taggart, leaning down to look him right in the eye. "To pay her back for being an honest person and calling you out on your despicable ways?"

Bobby was really getting worked up now, and he pulled Taggart up by the front of his jumpsuit and shoved him back against the wall.

I was slightly afraid for his arm, because he didn't seem to be favoring it at all, but I had to trust him to be smart about it. And he was mainly using his left hand, so I gave him credit for at least being aware of it.

As Bobby roughed him up, I glanced through the bars at the guard waiting outside, but he just looked away with nonchalance.

"You were a disgrace to the uniform and she didn't let you get away with it," he continued. "She deserved to die, right? Because she sent you here. It's her fault. It's not anything _you_ did. It was all her, right? _Right_?"

"No! No, she wasn't supposed to die!"

"Why not? What would be the point otherwise? She knows your brother!" Bobby yelled, still not letting up on Taggart. "She'd put him away in a second once he let her go."

"He was going to keep her," he admitted in a rush.

"What?" I asked in shock.

"Until…I can get….parole in…in six months," he stammered.

And the horrifying inference suddenly made things a little more clear.

"You were going to have him keep her _for you_?" I asked. "For the purpose of what?"

At Taggart's silence, Bobby shoved his forearm across his neck.

"For what?" he repeated. "To torture her? As a sex slave? What?"

"I wanted her to feel what I feel," he rasped out. "I wanted her to be locked in a cage like a rat."

I'd heard a lot during my time with the NYPD. Heard a lot, seen a lot, and had been completely appalled on many occasions.

But this…and by a former cop? I had no words.

Bobby was obviously disgusted, too. He shoved one last time against Taggart and then stepped back quickly, letting him fall to the floor.

"Tell us the plan," I said at last. "Rhonda came to see you?"

"I don't know any Rhonda."

"Don't start lying now," Bobby warned. "We already mentioned her once and you didn't bat an eye. Now you're already going to have time added to your sentence for your part in this. Don't make it worse than it has to be."

"Rhonda wanted Logan. She'd heard through the grapevine that I wanted Barek. She said we could work together," he confessed as he slowly got to his feet.

"Where does she stay?"

"I have no idea."

"Where would Adam be staying?"

"I don't know. I swear. I didn't want to know."

He wanted to be able to withstand any questioning. He wasn't quite as dumb as I'd thought. Just sick.

"Does your brother use any aliases?"

"No. Not that I know of."

"What about Rhonda?"

"I don't know," he told us. Bobby and I both glared at him until he started offering up a little more information. "She visited me here a few times. I don't know what name she used. But she asked me to talk to some of my old buddies and find out some dirt on Logan. Nobody knew nothing."

"That's because he was a good cop. So you didn't tell her anything?"

"I'd heard that his old lady was a drunk, so I told her that."

"You had to dig up decades-old rumors?" I asked him, shaking my head. He shrugged. "What else?"

"That's all."

"What was her plan for Logan?"

"She didn't say, just that she wanted Barek out of the way. That's why she wanted to work with us. Adam was going to take Barek, and then she could start messing with Logan."

"So they weren't going to keep working together," I stated.

"No. Rhonda told us where they like to hang out. I don't know how she knew so much about them. She must have been following them or something. But her last visit was one day last week, and she said that it was going to be soon, and for me to tell Adam to be ready."

"How did she plan to get in touch with Adam when it was time?"

"On her last visit, I gave her Adam's cell number. She said she wouldn't use it until it was time."

"Give it to me," I stated, because we knew that Adam had just bought the no-name last night. So he had another one, even though we couldn't find any record of it.

"I…um…I don't…"

Again, Bobby went at him. He tossed a chair across the room and encroached on Taggart's personal space as Taggart frantically backed up.

I wondered idly what all he'd endured in prison that had him afraid of physical confrontation. He hadn't been like that when he'd first been arrested.

"Okay!" he shouted. "I'll give it to you!"

I pulled out my phone and entered the digits as he called them out.

Bobby and I headed for the door, but at the last second, he stopped and turned to ask Taggart one more question.

"Adam planned to keep Barek locked up for six months until you got out. Then what?"

Taggart grinned at us, and I could only guess that his bravado had returned due to the distance between him and Bobby as well as because of the fact that the guard had now entered the room.

"Hey, she's a bitch, but she's a good-looking bitch. I figured we'd have some fun. I don't know why Adam killed her, but I hope he did her up right before he offed her."

I have no doubt that after a comment like that Bobby would've knocked him out with one punch.

But I beat him to it.

TBC...


	10. Chapter 10

**Bobby POV**

* * *

I didn't blame Alex for taking out Taggart.

In fact, I was pretty damn impressed with the punch.

But I hated that she'd hurt her hand again. Her middle knuckle had connected with his nose and the hard cartilage there had caused her finger to swell.

And I was only mildly disappointed that I hadn't gotten to do the deed myself.

The guard hadn't cared a bit. He'd actually patted Alex on the back and offered her an ice pack.

"We need to get Ross on this cell number," Alex said as she pulled out of the visitors' parking lot of the prison. "Find out who it's registered to and get the logs pulled."

"We will," I said, but then I picked up her hand from where it rested on her leg and gently prodded the knuckles. "Do we need to swing by the morgue for an x-ray?"

"Liz is not our personal physician," she reminded me, although she did offer me a smirk. "And no, there's no need. He was a marshmallow."

"Alex, you don't always have to be so tough," I said quietly as I kissed her hand and then put it back on her leg.

"There's no time for anything else right now," she replied. She glanced at me quickly and then put her eyes back on the road. "We need to find Carolyn."

I nodded in agreement and pulled out my phone to make the call to Ross. After I told him what we had learned from Taggart, it was his turn.

And he and Logan had apparently been on a roll.

I put him on speaker.

"Mike started looking further into Rhonda Hagen's social security number. The computer shows that it was issued at about the age of five, but he got on the phone with someone in their office and had them go to the file room to find the copy of the application."

"At this time of night on a Sunday?" I asked in amazement.

"Let's just say that he's a little determined," Ross replied. "Anyway, the application was dated 1972, but the stamp showing receipt in the office was 2001."

"So she had a new social security number issued to her and she paid off someone to make it look like it was her original. What happened to the old one? Do we know what it was? Do we even know her real name?"

"We're working on it. But we've got some ideas. We're pretty sure she's from New Jersey, right?"

"Yeah," I agreed. We'd followed lots of trails on Rhonda, and they'd all given us at least that one common denominator.

"We found an article about an Addison Hooper who died in 1984 at the age of sixteen," he began.

"She would've been about the same age as Rhonda right now," I interjected.

"Right. And guess where she grew up?"

"Trenton," Alex supplied.

"Right again," Ross confirmed.

"But how do we know it's the right one? There have to be more than one Addison Hooper."

"The newspaper article shows that Hooper died in a car accident when her Mazda was hit head-on by a pick-up truck. There were two other passengers in the Mazda. Sheila Swisher, who died three days later in ICU, and Renee Yoder who walked away from the crash without a scratch."

"So we think that Rhonda Hagen was originally Renee Yoder?"

"She was," he confirmed.

"How do we know for sure?" Alex asked him.

"We'll need photographic evidence," I added. "Just because it fits, that doesn't mean it's fact."

Ross chuckled, obviously thinking the same thing I was once the words were out of my mouth.

The shoe was on the other foot now. He was spouting theories and I was insisting on proof.

"This is what we think. Renee Yoder still exists. She's a fine upstanding citizen. It looks like Rhonda Hagen was the alias used when Renee was committing her crimes, and then maybe to keep the heat to a minimum, she stole the identity of her dead friend Addison Hooper."

"And now she's using Shannon Logan as well," Alex added.

"Get this," Ross said. "Yoder has a bank account and a credit card. Guess where the last charge was made?"

"I've got nothing," I admitted. My mind was reeling trying to keep up with this mess. I wished I'd been writing it down while he was talking.

"It was used for an online purchase of six state-of-the-art listening devices, capable of transmitting sound up to five miles."

I could hear the smile in his voice as he said the words. What were the odds that this Renee person would have a need for bugs?

It had to be Rhonda. And that meant Rhonda had regularly been within five miles of Logan's house.

That also meant that we had a legitimate name to track.

"Please tell me that she had those shipped somewhere other than a PO Box."

"Sorry. But it's a PO Box in Trenton. I figured we'd head there first thing in the morning."

"We'll head there now," I countered. "Find us a name for that cell phone. I'm betting we'll have more leads to track down while we're in the Garden State.

**

* * *

**

Rodgers POV

I processed the body of our Jane Doe as though she were a friend.

I always took great care with the bodies I examined, but this time was different.

This time, I'd thought it _was_ my friend.

And even though I knew now that it wasn't Carolyn, I still couldn't help but be a little spooked by the similarities.

But I was also determined. This was how I could help.

If I could find out who this girl was, then maybe it would help them find her killer, and by extension, find out for sure who had kidnapped Carolyn.

Because now we knew that whoever had her didn't mind taking a life.

I removed the clothing from the body, noticing now that they weren't a perfect fit. I should've realized to begin with that the girl was slightly bigger than Carolyn.

I'd been too upset to think logically.

I picked up her left hand and removed the wedding rings. I gave Mike credit for not pulling them off the instant he saw them. I dropped them into a cleansing solution and left them on the counter for now.

I would give them back to him when I left here tonight. I would document their existence on the victim, and I'd already taken photos, so I saw no need to keep them.

Once I had taken everything off of her, I went about taking another set of photographs. I made note of the extensive bruising to her midsection as well as around her neck.

My preliminary conclusion was death by manual strangulation.

I took a set of fingerprints from the woman and got those started running through the system while I continued with the autopsy.

I spoke into the recorder while I looked over the body, and I was aware that my voice still sounded shaky.

This whole thing had really gotten to me.

I couldn't remember a time that I'd had so much trouble cutting into a cadaver, even back when I was an intern.

And it wasn't a big secret as to why.

I was analyzing every mark on this woman and thinking of what might be happening to Carolyn.

And while I knew that Danny and the others were working tirelessly to find her, would it be in time?

I had to stop thinking like that. I was ashamed of myself for being so unprofessional.

I buckled down and got to it, channeling my worry into efficiency, taking care to not miss a single thing that might be evidence.

A few minutes later, I was rewarded for my diligence.

The bruising on her face, which was surely done to obscure identity, was actually what gave me the clue. There was an image visible, albeit slight, of a ring. It looked like a monogrammed ring that some men wore on their little finger.

I grabbed my magnifying glass and looked at it more closely, and then took several photos of the area in question. I ran my gloved finger along her cheek in an effort to make the area more decipherable, but instead I felt a slightly grainy surface.

There had been a substance on the ring when it had smashed into her face. I got a collection tube and gathered a sample to send to the lab.

I was hopeful that the substance might narrow down the search. Of course, it could also be something that was found everywhere, but maybe not…

I continued my exam, and then I found something else.

There was a tiny puncture wound amidst the bruising on her stomach. She'd been injected with something, probably something to subdue her. I'd be interested to see the tox report.

And then I heard my computer beep, indicating that it had a hit.

I stepped back from the table and went to see the results.

My Jane Doe now had a name.

Thirty-nine year old Tonya Elroy of Trenton, New Jersey. She'd been arrested twice for prostitution back in the early nineties, which was why her prints had popped.

I immediately pulled out my phone.

**

* * *

**

Carolyn POV

As I worked like a fiend trying to tear through the thick layer of duct tape on my ankles, I realized something else.

My wedding rings were gone.

_Why_? Why would my kidnapper take my rings?

I pondered that as I worked tirelessly on the tape, which by this point had turned into a nearly solid compound.

I looked around the room for anything that might speed up my progress. I was pretty sure that Taggart had left because I hadn't heard from him in quite some time.

But since I had no idea when he might get back, I couldn't rest.

I tried again to reach the shelves, but to no avail.

As I shifted around so that I could face the back of the room, I felt a sharp pain on the sole of my foot. I squatted down to check it out, and found that there was a prickly edge on the drain grate.

I immediately dropped onto my butt and moved my ankles over top of the drain. It was an awkward position, but that jagged edge of metal would do the trick a lot faster than my worn down fingernails.

And it did.

After nearly ten minutes of what in essence was an intense abdominal workout, the tape around my ankles snapped. I quickly pulled the torn tape out from under the cuff to ease some of the pressure on my ankle.

So now I had my left foot free while my right was still cuffed to the grate, but at least it was a tremendous improvement. Because now, with one foot free, I could reach just a little bit further.

Now I could reach the edge of the shelf.

It was a high shelf, so I couldn't see what was on it, but I felt my way around.

And there wasn't much.

Some rags, some rubber gloves, a box of steel wool pads, and a scrub brush.

I stretched as far as I could and my finger tips touched something else. A bottle of some sort, which gave me hope. A bottle of anything in a closet full of cleaning supplies was bound to be useful.

For one of the few times in my life, I cursed my small stature. If I had longer arms, this wouldn't be quite so difficult, but even though I wasn't tall, I was resourceful. I used the scrub brush to give me the extra few inches I needed and I managed to scoot the bottle closer to the edge.

An unlabeled spray bottle of what smelled to be an ammonia-based cleanser.

I could make that work.

I put the brush back on the shelf so that the items would appear to be undisturbed and then I waited.

While I waited, I thought about Mike. I tried to picture what he was doing right now, but then I felt myself getting choked up and I had to stop.

I couldn't think about him right now.

I had to get into attack mode.

_Be strong, Carolyn_, I told myself.

Because this wasn't a game, and it wasn't for the faint-hearted. Only one of us was going to be leaving this room alive.

And it was damn sure going to be me.

Resolve flooded through me, and not a moment too soon.

I heard a door open and close somewhere nearby, and then the sound of heavy footfalls approaching the door of the closet.

This was it. I wouldn't get a second chance.

I'd positioned myself on the floor, lying exactly as I had been when I first woke up, only this time I had the bottle in hand. My back was to the door, so it was hidden from view.

As I listened to him work the key in the lock, I realized that I may have made a fatal error.

What if the sprayer didn't work on the first try?

I should've squirted it already to be sure. If I did it now, then the smell would be fresh in the air, and it would be more noticeable.

But it was a chance I had to take. The whole room smelled slightly anyway, so it was a good possibility that he wouldn't notice.

I quickly aimed the bottle away from me, and had to squirt three times before a steady stream came out.

That last second thought may have been the difference between life and death.

The door came open and I held my breath as I waited for him to approach.

"Shit, she should be awake by now," he muttered. "Maybe I didn't calculate the dosage right."

I listened as he walked up behind me and bent over me, running his hand into my hair to pull it back from my face.

I immediately rolled onto my back, bringing the bottle up and spraying him in the face, my finger working the trigger repeatedly as fast as it would go.

Then, since he was standing over me, I brought my unshackled foot straight up as hard as I could, catching him in the groin while he stood vulnerable with his hands over his face.

"Fuck!" he shouted, staggering away from me.

But I couldn't let him get too far away. If he moved from my reach, he could allow himself time to recover before approaching me again.

I had to get him now.

Dropping the bottle, I sprang to my feet and grabbed for his shirt, but instead I caught him by the waistband of his pants. I tugged as hard as I could, jerking him towards me and then I started hitting him.

I applied everything I'd ever learned about hand-to-hand combat.

And whatever was in that bottled had really messed him up, because his eyes had swollen and he was barely even defending himself, much less fighting back.

I continued pummeling him, my anger and exhaustion eventually causing my blows to become erratic.

But I didn't slow down until I realized that he was gasping for air.

I kept a tight grip on his pants because I absolutely could not let him get out of my reach. I stood still, sweating and breathing heavily, while I waited to see if I needed to start round two.

He had been cursing and screaming before, but now only a wheezing sound was coming out, and I determined that one of my blows had crushed his trachea.

He was suffocating to death.

He went down to his knees, now clutching at his throat, but I followed him down and kept my hold, still afraid that he may try to crawl away from me.

But he didn't.

I finally let him go as he fell down onto his side and I listened to him struggle for air.

The whole thing probably only took about ten minutes, but it felt like so much longer.

He wasn't the first person I'd killed, but that didn't make it any easier.

And I had to remind myself of the situation.

_It was him or me. _

_I didn't have a choice._

I only felt remorse for a moment. I hadn't started this thing. He did when he threatened Mike and ordered me out of Steve-O's.

I methodically began searching his pockets for the key to the cuff that was holding me captive, but after several minutes, new panic set in.

He didn't have it on him. And he didn't have his cell phone.

I was no longer in danger from my captor, but I was still trapped.

And I was going to die unless someone found me.

TBC...


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: I have turned White Horse, New Jersey into what I wanted it to be. No flames from New Jerseyans.**

**A/N2: Thank you, thank you, thank you Mitzvahgirl. Apparently I work better under the crack of the whip. I appreciate your continued beatings. :)**

**

* * *

**

Logan POV

* * *

I didn't want to stay at the office.

I wanted to be on my way to Trenton. But the Gorens were already on the road and I couldn't make them backtrack to pick me up.

But my gut said that Carolyn was there.

Too much was pointing in that direction.

The dead woman was from Trenton.

The phone had been purchased there. Rhonda was from there.

It couldn't be a coincidence.

I wasn't going to wait much longer before I stole Ross' keys and hopped in the department vehicle.

"Hey Logan, look at this," Ross said suddenly, cutting through the silence. I stood up and went over to where he sat in front of the computer.

_Carolyn's_ _computer_, I thought with a pang.

"I got the last six months' worth of activity on Renee Yoder's credit card. Look where she buys her gas," he said, pointing at the screen.

"Express Food on Nottingham," I murmured. "That's where the phone was purchased."

"Bernard said the guy there was excited that his new security camera had come in handy. It was just installed last month."

"Last date on here says six weeks ago. She would've thought that there wasn't a camera," I mused.

But how did that help?

She'd sent him there intentionally. So she'd been in touch with him prior to Saturday night to tell him where to buy a phone.

Did that mean he was staying in Trenton as opposed to merely passing through from somewhere else?

It at least said that he wasn't there by accident. It was a deliberate purpose.

"Hey, what else is nearby? Any chance of getting something off a neighboring business' camera?" I asked suddenly.

"Bernard checked," Ross told me with a shake of his head. "He's good."

"Okay," I stated in an effort to regroup. "What else? What did she use her credit card for?"

So then we analyzed her purchases, mapping out the location of the businesses and coming up with a rough ten-mile radius in which she mostly shopped. Odds would say that she lived somewhere near there as well.

"Except that she hasn't charged anything in six weeks," Ross remarked.

"Neither has Rhonda Hagen or Addison Hooper," I added. I'd just checked that out on Friday. "Which means that we have no idea where she is."

"What if she set up Taggart at her place? It would be somewhere away from the city. She doesn't think that we know her true identity. It would keep him from renting under a false name…"

"But we don't know where her place is," I reminded him.

"It's in here somewhere," he said, tapping his finger on the circle we had just drawn on the map.

Ross' phone rang and I resumed my pacing.

When he hung up, he told me that Harker had pulled the call logs for Adam Taggart's phone, which was actually another drop cell. He'd purchased it the day that he was released from jail.

The log showed a call from Rhonda's phone on Friday and then again at five-thirty Saturday evening. That would've been the call that prompted his purchase of another phone, since Rhonda would've known that we would pull Carolyn's log.

I checked my watch again.

It was eleven o'clock.

The Gorens should be in Trenton by now, and so was Bernard, who would be making the notification to Tonya Elroy's family. _If she had any_.

At best, I was hoping for a nosy neighbor who'd seen her picked up in a very specific and unusual vehicle that we could then track to our kidnapper.

But that was probably wishful thinking.

Ross continued tapping keys while I roamed the room, playing with my ring and trying to free up my creative thinking ability.

Renee Yoder…Rhonda Hagen…Addison Hooper…_Shannon Logan_.

Why use this last one, other than to let me know that _she_ knew I was looking for her?

Or was it a clue to something else?

But why would she bother with clues?

Unless she liked flaunting the fact that she was smarter than me. That thought had some merit.

I'd outsmarted her when she'd killed Walter Raleigh. Now she wanted that kind of payback, too?

So along that line, what kind of clue would that be? What did she know about my mother?

Hell, for that matter, what did _I_ know about my mother?

She was a hateful alcoholic who never had a kind word for me.

I had a few fond memories from my childhood, but none of them included her.

My father had his moments, but mostly he turned a blind eye to her cruelty.

But still…my mother had never left the city. She'd spent her entire miserable life here. She'd died with no money, no insurance…only debt. And in a perfectly fitting final parting shot, I was responsible for that as well.

Despite my lack of ideas, I sat down at my computer and googled Shannon Logan. There were pages and pages of them, but none were my mother.

I don't know what I expected to find.

So then I logged onto the NYC Office of Vital Records.

I found the death certificate for Shannon McMahon Logan. I found the marriage certificate from when she married my dad.

Surprisingly, I also found a prior marriage certificate which was dated three years before I was born.

I'd had no idea.

There was no record of her ever receiving a divorce.

I tapped a few more keys, checking the name of her first husband against death records to see if she'd been widowed. He'd died in 1997.

_Huh_.

So legally, she'd never been married to my dad. Interesting, but I had no idea how that might be relevant. I couldn't imagine that it was.

But what I couldn't find was a birth record for my mother.

She'd told me that she was born in New York at Bellevue, but of course she'd lied about a lot of things. I had no idea why she would lie about where she was born, but I decided to check the surrounding states.

I started with New Jersey.

That was where I found the birth record for Shannon Elizabeth McMahon. She was born five years earlier than she'd claimed, and it was a home birth. At a residence in a town called White Horse.

Five miles southeast of Trenton.

**

* * *

**

Alex POV

We got lucky with the PO Box because it was located inside a twenty-four hour Kinkos.

Bobby and I strode into the place at nearly eleven o'clock and swooped down on the unsuspecting night clerk.

"We need to see the records on the owner of one of your boxes," Bobby began as he quickly flashed his badge.

It was all I could do not to laugh.

I'd left mine at home, and didn't realize that he'd brought his with him.

One of these days we were going to get busted for this and probably be in some trouble.

But not today.

"Um..."

"I'm sure it's in that cabinet over there," I said, pointing at a large black filing cabinet. "It's number 327, registered to Renee Yoder."

"What…um…what do you…um…need?" he stammered as he opened the bottom drawer.

"All we need is the home address," I stated.

"And we need to know if there's any mail currently in the box," Bobby added. I looked at him quickly before turning back to the clerk. He was pushing it. If this kid knew anything about the law, he'd send us on our way.

"There's no mail. Her husband picked it up yesterday, and you know, there's no mail on Sunday."

"Her husband?" Bobby asked. And then he described Adam Taggart to the clerk.

"Yeah, that's him. Nice guy."

"Uh huh," I agreed. "He sure is. What time was he in here?"

"I don't know. Five-thirty? Six o'clock? Something like that."

"Has he been in here before?"

"I don't know. That was the first time I'd seen him. Here's her card. Oh, it looks like she just updated it recently."

"What was the old address?"

"It's blacked out. I can only tell that it's Trenton."

"Okay, so what's the new address?"

"Now she lives out on Colonial Drive in White Horse."

We left the Kinkos and got back in the car.

"This would be too easy," Bobby said as I headed south.

"Yeah. But did you notice that the convenience store where Taggart bought the phone is only about a mile from here?"

"Uh huh. This is the stomping ground, but for who? Rhonda _and_ Taggart? They didn't even know each other until a few weeks ago."

"This is her place," I stated. "She's brought him to her turf, and she thinks that we don't know about it. But do you know what else?"

"What?" he asked, and I could hear the dread in his voice. I easily recognized it because it was in mine as well.

"I don't think he'd keep her here. Once Rhonda was done with them, Taggart was probably taking Carolyn back to North Carolina to hide her while his brother finished out his sentence."

Bobby nodded, but I could tell something was still bothering him.

"But then why the fake death? That would only stall things for a day at best."

And there it was.

That one piece of the puzzle that didn't fit. It seemed as though every way we looked at this thing, there was something out of place.

We were both quiet as Bobby put the address into the GPS and then called Mike to check in.

"We're headed to White Horse," I heard him say. And then, "Because that's the address for the PO Box. Why did you think?"

He listened for a minute, and then said, "Hang on, and let me put you on speaker."

"Go ahead, Mike. You've got both of us," I said. "What's up?"

"My mother was born in White Horse."

"What?" I asked, stunned by the coincidence. And it had to be, didn't it? "How in the hell would Rhonda know that? And what would that have to do with anything?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "But I was trying to figure out why she'd use my mom's name as an alias, so I started looking up old records."

"What does it say on the record of birth?"

"It just lists that it was at a private residence instead of a hospital."

"Rhonda only recently moved out here. She's throwing you a trail of bread crumbs," I told him. "She researched your mother, and then moved into the neighborhood where she was born. It was probably too convenient for her to pass up when she realized it was so close to where she already lived."

"And she either didn't think you'd ever figure it out and so she's getting off on it, or she _wanted_ you to figure it out and it's some kind of a trap," Bobby added.

"You know I'm coming down there, right?"

"I can't imagine a scenario where you wouldn't," I agreed with a smirk. I had no doubt that he'd been driving Ross crazy.

Logan was not one to sit around in an office. I was actually surprised that he'd lasted this long.

"Hey, hang on. Bernard's on the phone with Ross. He's got something."

We listened to silence as I turned the car onto Colonial Drive.

"You guys there?" Logan shouted, and I could tell he was moving quickly, maybe down a stairwell.

"Yeah, what is it?"

"Tonya Elroy's roommate said she left home at three-thirty to go to work at the Wawa in Trenton. She was due to clock in at four and she never made it. Bernard's talking to the neighbors now."

"There's not a lot of wiggle room there. He picked her up between three-thirty and four, killed her and got her to Brooklyn by seven," I remarked.

"I wonder how long he looked for someone who resembled Carolyn," Logan added.

"They've been planning something like this for a few weeks. And we don't know where he's been during that time."

"So you think he scoped out a body double?"

"I think that Rhonda wanted her dead," Bobby said. I knew he'd been working on a theory in his head ever since we left the prison. "She wanted the shock factor of having you find the body at your house."

"But?" Logan asked, and now I heard a car engine start. I had no doubt that any second I'd hear the siren come on.

"But I think that Taggart didn't want to do it. The Taggart brothers had their own agenda. They used Rhonda as much as she used them."

And now we had something that almost made sense.

"Okay, so he found a replacement. Rhonda thinks Carolyn is dead. Now what?" Logan asked.

"Now he's in the wind. We might need to focus half of this investigation into finding out where he would be in North Carolina. That's his home turf. He'd feel safe there," I said.

"And he's not going to stay around here for long because he knows that word is going to get out about who he actually killed. He won't want to stay and see what Rhonda does when she finds out he crossed her," Bobby added.

"But what if he doesn't take her down there, and then we're wasting resources looking in the wrong place?" Logan asked.

And it was a legitimate question.

Were we _that_ sure of what Taggart's movements would be?

"Let's see what we find in the house," Bobby suggested. "And we'll check in with Bernard again. When you get to Trenton, we'll re-evaluate the situation, okay?"

"Okay," he agreed reluctantly. And then I heard the siren switch on. "I'll be there in ninety minutes."

We hung up with Logan and got out of the car. I'd parked a little ways down the street from the house listed as being Renee Yoder's. And who knew? Maybe it was a fake address. Maybe she didn't live here at all.

I had to give Rhonda credit for knowing how to weave an intricate web of deception.

"Ready?" Bobby asked as he drew his weapon. I had mine out as well and I gave him a nod as we headed up the walk.

It was a large house, and from all appearances, it was empty. There were no vehicles in the driveway, no lights on.

Of course, the owner could just be asleep since it was well past eleven.

"Should we have called the locals?" I whispered as we approached the front door.

"We're not doing anything wrong. We're investigators," he stated with a shrug. "We're investigating."

And he was right. We were licensed in New Jersey as well as New York. There was too much overlap not to be.

But I was still a little apprehensive about what we were about to do.

There could be a completely innocent person living here who just had the misfortune of actually owning the address that Rhonda had decided to use.

"Carolyn could be in here," he reminded me when he noticed my hesitation.

And that was all it took. Because he was exactly right. We had to go where the evidence led us. If this was the wrong house, then we'd apologize and be on our way.

We stood on either side of the door and then I rang the bell.

I couldn't hear a sound.

Bobby banged on the door several times and then we listened again. Nothing.

We took a lap around the house, checking out the other doors, but it was still quiet inside.

"Are we going in?" he asked me when we got back to the front.

"I think we have to."

He wrapped his handkerchief around his hand and busted the glass on the window next to the door and then reached through to unlock it.

We silently moved through the house, clearing each room and finding them all empty.

"There's a basement," I whispered when I came across the door. He nodded at me, and I opened the door.

Was this it? Was Carolyn down here?

I hoped not, because if she was and she was alive, she would've heard us and made some kind of noise. And yet we hadn't heard a thing.

We eased down the stairs, our weapons at the ready, and when we got to the landing at the bottom, Bobby went left and I went right.

I used my flashlight to scour the room for evidence of something, anything that might give us another clue.

Hell, we still couldn't even be sure we were in the right house.

But then I saw it, and all of my doubts were gone.

_Oh my God._

"Bobby," I said slowly, and I could hear the alarm and distress in my own voice. "Come look at this."

TBC...


	12. Chapter 12

**Bobby POV**

* * *

I have to admit to being a little afraid as Alex and I went down the basement steps.

The house was too quiet.

If Carolyn was here, then she was either unconscious or dead.

We got to the bottom of the stairs and split off in separate directions.

The basement was mostly unfinished, with a concrete floor and cinderblock walls. I shined my light along the perimeter of the room, but then I turned quickly when I heard Alex suck in a breath.

"Bobby," she said, and the tone of her voice put every cell in my body on alert. "Come look at this."

I crossed the room swiftly, but the pulled up short when I saw the focus of her flashlight.

There was a roll top desk against the wall, and above it was a bulletin board. Every centimeter of the board was covered by photographs, many of which were overlapping or trimmed down so that even more photos could fit into the space.

"Obsess much?" I mumbled rhetorically as I took another step closer.

Mike was in every single picture.

Carolyn was in a lot of them, but her face had been scribbled out with a black magic marker, or scratched out with a sharp object of some sort.

A few of the pictures even had Rhonda's face inserted over top of Carolyn's, although it was done crudely, as though it was the work of a child.

"I'd say we definitely have the right house," Alex stated. She stepped closer, too, and together we looked at the roughly one hundred or so pictures.

"And I'd say that she didn't expect us to find this place. She thought her Renee Yoder identity was secure," I added.

I wanted to go through the desk, but I didn't have gloves on me, and I didn't want to touch anything. My handkerchief was covered in glass.

I looked around briefly and then I watched as Alex pulled a pair of gloves from her pocket.

"You brought gloves?" I asked her in proud amazement.

"Hey, you brought your badge. I brought gloves. Between the two of us, we'd make a pretty good cop," she replied with a smile.

She pulled the gloves onto her hands and then opened the roll top and began going through the papers.

Since I still didn't want to touch things, I began analyzing the photos.

"This one looks like it was taken recently," I remarked. "Look at the bruising on his face."

"And that's different from his usual look...how?" she replied with a smirk. But then she glanced up at the picture I was referencing and nodded her head. "But yeah, you're right. That's the jailhouse brawl bruising."

"So she's been here very recently."

"Hey, check this out," Alex said slowly as she read over a document she'd pulled from a drawer.

"What is it?" I asked her. I leaned down to read over her shoulder. It was a bank statement, and the name on the account was Tim Price.

"Who is that?"

"I have no idea," she remarked, and then she pulled the entire file out of the drawer and started flipping through the contents. "John Strathmore, William Meyer, Arthur Peterson…"

"All men," I stated.

"All rich men," she amended. "None of these accounts have less than half a million dollars."

"Potential targets?"

"I think so."

She set the file down and pulled out the next one.

"Walter Raleigh," she said in surprise. "Look, the date was from the month prior to Rhonda's meeting with Matthew Raleigh. And it's got a check mark in the corner."

"So her chance meeting with the rich man's son wasn't so chance after all."

"I don't think anything she does is an accident. There are three more in here with check marks."

"Which one is the most recent?"

"Right here," she said, pulling one paper from the stack. "Andrew LaFrance. This statement is for December, and at the time he had over seven million dollars."

"In a checking account?"

That was unusual.

People with that kind of money didn't just keep it all in one account, nor did they keep it so accessible. Or at least, I didn't think so. It wasn't like I had first hand knowledge of such wealth.

"It shows a transfer from another account into this checking in the amount of five million on December 19th," Alex read out as she looked over the statement. "He was getting ready to spend it on something."

"Or someone. Let's call Ross and get some details on the men in this file, starting with LaFrance. We know Rhonda lived in Raleigh's house until Logan had her on the run. Maybe she's back in the game of fleecing old men."

"From the looks of this, she never left. The dates on the first one is a month after we arrested Matthew Raleigh. The second one is from six months later."

"We need to know where they are today."

"Do you think they're dead?" she asked me.

"I'd bet either dead or missing."

"What do you think of these photos?" Alex asked me, shifting her focus to the cork board. "Creepy, huh?"

"Definitely. And it backs up our theory that Rhonda would want Carolyn dead. Look how she has her marked out of every picture. She must have gotten increasingly incensed as she watched the two of them together."

"Look at these," Alex said thoughtfully, pointing to one grouping of photos. "They're going into Steve-O's. The angle of the shot is from across the street, diagonally. What's over there? A bus stop?"

"Yeah, but this is from slightly above," I added, catching on to her line of thinking. "Like maybe from the second floor of the building there. Let's get Ross on this, too. It would certainly be within the five-mile radius for her listening devices. Maybe she has office space there."

"Okay," she agreed. "So let's lay this out. Rhonda's scheme is to steal money from elderly wealthy men by pretending to be in love with them. Maybe she talks her way into their wills, or she just takes what she can get from them. If she was able to keep it going after the Raleigh incident, then why does she care about Logan so much?"

"I would say she's a classic psychopath with aggressive narcissism. She uses charisma and manipulation along with her sexuality to get what she wants. She was unsuccessful with Logan, so no matter how successful she is with subsequent conquests, she's going to continue feeling that sense of failure."

"So she's basically never going to stop coming after him."

"No. And she's blaming Carolyn for being the cause of her failure. In her mind, if Mike was still alone, she could've had him, like she did when they first met."

"But because when she called him about Raleigh he was already with Carolyn," Alex continued, easily picking up on my direction. "She associates her inability to maneuver him with his commitment to Carolyn."

"Right. So she thinks that if she takes out Carolyn, then she can manipulate Mike."

"But he doesn't have any money," Alex said. "Why would she care?"

"It's all about the power with her. And the feeling of omnipotence."

I pulled my phone out and dialed Ross. We were getting close now, I could feel it.

I only hoped that Carolyn was still holding her own.

**

* * *

**

Carolyn POV

Not that I would ever admit it to anyone, but after I searched Taggart's pockets and came up empty, I sat back and cried.

I was exhausted and thirsty and cold and my knuckles hurt from hitting him so many times and I'd just killed a man with my bare hands and now I was fraught and filled with despair.

I was never going to get out of here.

I was never going to see Mike again.

I would never hear his laugh or see his smile or feel his lips on mine.

I was simply going to die in here, chained to the floor like an animal, while my victim made his way into, and possibly even out of, rigor.

I closed my eyes as the tears streamed down my face and I allowed myself a few minutes to feel helpless.

And then I started to get over it.

Was this why I had been spared when the rest of my family was killed? So that I could end up like this?

And what would Mike think of me now, simpering like some poor powerless victim simply because my plan hadn't gone exactly as expected.

I had no doubt that he was out there somewhere moving heaven and earth trying to find me. So shouldn't I be doing the same to try to save myself?

_Get a grip, Carolyn, and get your ass in gear._

I could do this. I could get out of here.

It was handcuffs, for God's sake. On a drain.

Was I really going to be beaten by a tool of my own trade? Hell no.

I stood up and shoved at Taggart's body until I had him on his back. He was wearing a flannel button-up over top of a t-shirt, but the flannel would do.

Something to put on so that I wouldn't feel so cold and exposed.

I used the front of his t-shirt to wipe off my bloody hands and then I went to work getting the flannel shirt off of him and onto me. Once I had it on, I started to feel a little better.

I had accomplished something. I _could_ do this.

I looked at the watch on Taggart's wrist.

It read twelve-thirty.

So I'd been here roughly twenty-seven hours.

I could reasonably last another two days without water, although I had no idea how much whatever drug I'd been given had affected my hydration, not to mention the fact that I'd wasted valuable fluid with my reprehensible tears.

Still, even taking those factors into account, I would guess that I shouldn't begin to feel debilitating effects for at least another twelve hours. After that, I wouldn't be able to depend on sharp brain function or fine motor skills.

I needed to get out of here before then.

I felt somewhat relieved by my assessment, but then I had another more horrifying thought.

He'd been speaking to a woman, presumably Rhonda, on the phone earlier. What if she came here? If she came into the room, she'd see Taggart before she'd be close enough for me to get to her. I'd be at her mercy.

And the mere thought of being at Rhonda's mercy started to piss me off.

With all the crap she'd been putting Mike through, _she_'s the one I would love to kill with my bare hands.

But still, I had to remember that I was the one at the disadvantage. I had to remedy that.

I conducted another search through Taggart's pockets. He had forty-two cents in change, and he had a wallet which held four thousand dollars in cash but no ID.

_Four thousand dollars_? Was that how much he was paid to kidnap me?

I was almost offended. And certainly annoyed with myself that such an amateur had successfully snatched me. Of course, the amateur was now dead, but still…

_Focus, Carolyn._

He had nothing else in any pocket. I needed something to either break through the grate or pick the lock on the cuffs.

I stood up and stretched out to reach the shelf again. I pulled everything within reach down onto the floor and then looked over my booty.

Rubber gloves.

Rags.

A scrub brush.

A box of steel wool.

_I could use that_.

I opened the box, thinking that maybe I could fashion some type of lock-pick.

But it was empty.

"Shit!" I yelled out as I slung the box across the room. In a moment of extreme frustration, I began tugging on the cuff with everything I had, repeatedly jerking my foot to put strain on the links.

"Break, you mother fucker…break!"

The only thing that was going to break was my ankle. I couldn't get the right kind of leverage to be able yank with enough strength.

I stood there and looked wildly around the room. I couldn't remember a time when I'd felt so helpless, so useless.

I needed to re-think this. I was reacting instead of acting.

_Analyze the assets_, I reminded myself.

I got back up and one last time stretched hard toward the shelf, ignoring the pain in my ankle as the cuff dug into it. But there wasn't anything else up there that I could reach.

Okay, so this was it. Gloves, a brush and rags. A bottle of ammonia. And Taggart.

I looked him over again. He had on jeans, a t-shirt and a pair of tennis shoes.

And a watch.

A nice Timex Ironman with a wide canvas band and a large buckle.

Despite my irritation with myself for overlooking it the first time, I had to smile.

Hope flooded through me as I fell to my knees and took off his watch.

Now I had a way out.

TBC...


	13. Chapter 13

**Logan POV**

* * *

I hit the outer suburbs of Trenton at twelve-thirty.

I'd had the pedal mashed against the floor board the entire drive, and I was well aware that I was acting recklessly. I was going much too fast to be responsible even under the best of circumstances, but tonight…tonight I was over-tired and over-emotional.

Hell, I was downright frantic.

I felt a sense of urgency that I _really_ needed to be in Trenton.

My phone rang as I exited off the 95. My intent was to drive to White Horse since I had yet to hear from the Gorens, but as I slowed my speed and looked at my phone, I realized that's who was calling now.

"What'd you find?" I asked, knowing without a doubt that they had found something.

Like I said, I can't explain it and I wasn't even going to try, but I was running purely on instinct at the moment.

"Rhonda's nest of insanity," Alex said. "You wouldn't believe."

"Give me the condensed version."

"She's still scamming old men and she is unbelievably obsessed with you."

"Okay. How does that help us?"

"We found bank statements of rich guys. Some who are on her radar and some of whom she's already fleeced."

"Walter Raleigh?"

"Yep. And three just like him. Two of them are from this past year, and their current bank balances are negligible. The third one still has cash, but she just locked onto him last month."

"How is this relevant?" I asked, hoping like hell that she had something.

"Um…oh, hang on. Ross was checking on something."

I kept driving, listening to silence and sending up yet another prayer.

She came back quicker than I expected and her voice was filled with exigency.

"Where are you?"

"I just got off of 95 at 195."

"Get back on. Now. Go north."

"What is it?"

"Do it. Do it now, and I'll explain."

I tossed the phone down onto the seat next to me and executed a U-turn on the interstate, thundering across the median strip. I nearly lost control, but I maintained the vehicle and once I was headed north on 95 again, I picked up the phone.

I could hear Alex breathing as though she were running.

"Highstown!" she shouted. "Our last guy had a van registered to him. Bernard's witness saw Tonya getting into a blue van. The description matches up, and the old man is supposedly on a world cruise right now, but there's no record of him on any ship's manifest."

I punched the accelerator again, tapping out at over a hundred and twenty in the powerful Malibu.

"Where? Give me the address!"

"Uh…I'm getting it. Hang on….um…East Ward Street. Exit 8, left on 33, left on Maxwell, left on Ward! We're about ten minutes behind you…go!"

As if she needed to say that.

If Alex was excited about a lead, then I was there. Because between my gut and hers, I had no doubt that we were on to something huge. And clearly, time was running short.

As I barreled back up 95 my mind started wandering.

What if he's already heading south?

Was she in any one of the dozens of cars I was passing on the interstate?

Had he changed his mind about keeping her since we were getting close?

Or had Rhonda learned that Carolyn wasn't really dead and now she'd caught up to him?

I needed to throw up again.

I never realized I had such a weak stomach until Saturday night when Carolyn was taken.

I'd never been sick on a case. But the thought of something happening to her just put me over the edge.

I took the exit going ninety and whipped through the smaller streets like a man on fire.

But when I got to East Ward, I slowed down.

I couldn't risk having him hear me. I wanted to get there as fast as possible, but I didn't want him to freak out and kill his victim before trying to make a run for it.

As I drove down the street, I saw the blue van in the driveway. My heart was pounding as I parked along the street across from the house, and got out.

As I jogged across the road, I drew my weapon.

I wouldn't hesitate to use it. In fact, I hoped this mother fucker gave me an excuse, any excuse to pull the trigger.

The house was completely dark. I reached in my pocket and turned my phone to silent and then eased my way up the steps.

A visual inspection through the front windows gave me no information. But surprisingly, the front door was unlocked.

Was this a trap? Did Rhonda know that we'd get this far?

I didn't care. If it was, then so be it.

I needed to find Carolyn, and if it meant that I died trying, well then…I was okay with that.

I stepped quietly through the house, the soles of my shoes noiseless against the hardwood floors. It was an expensive home, typical of one of Rhonda's targets. But there was no sign of activity.

No sign of Carolyn. Or Taggart.

I cleared the main level and then went upstairs. Nothing.

I went to the basement, which wasn't really a basement at all. It was completely finished and was actually nicer than any room in my house.

Except for the fact that there was a dead man shoved into a closet.

I nearly came out of my skin when I opened the door and he fell out onto me, but after a moment of near hyperventilation, I recognized him as the man in the photos on the wall. He was the owner of the house and Rhonda's latest victim, Andrew LaFrance.

But still no Carolyn.

I headed back upstairs and walked outside. Disappointment and desperation flooded through me.

I had been _so_ sure.

But had they been here and then gone? But where? And in what?

I glanced across the yard at the blue van and then I trotted towards it.

The doors were unlocked. I looked in the back. A blanket. A roll of duct tape. A used syringe.

This was it. She'd been in here. _Hadn't she_? Or was the van only used for Tonya Elroy?

No, Rodgers hadn't mentioned any evidence of the use of duct tape on Tonya. It had to have been used on Carolyn.

But somehow, I was too late, and I'd lost her again.

"Hey, where are you guys at?" I said when I got the Gorens on the phone.

"Exiting 95 now," Goren replied. "What's there?"

"Nothing now. But she was here. The van is here, and there's duct tape in the back and an empty syringe."

My voice cracked on the last word, thinking about what they might have drugged Carolyn with.

Something to knock her out?

Or something deadly? Had they used this blanket to cover her body?

"Mike!"

"Sorry. I was…um…" I mumbled. "Oh, and the old guy's dead. He's in a basement closet. Looks to be a week or so dead."

"So she's using his money and his assets to carry out her plan."

"Looks like," I said, struggling to hold back my emotion.

Damn, I was so close!

"Hey, I'll see you when you get here. There's some evidence bags in my car. Grab them and bag this stuff from the van when you get here, will you?"

"Sure. We'll be there in five minutes."

And because I couldn't just stand there, I decided to make a lap around the house before calling it quits.

**

* * *

**

Carolyn POV

With Taggart's watch in my hand, I sat down and reached for the cuffs. My plan was to use the prong of the buckle as a lock pick.

But I spent long agonizing minutes trying to get the lock open to no avail. It was frustrating, because it wasn't like I hadn't done this before. Many times, in fact.

But I finally admitted to myself that the watch prong was too flimsy. It was an old watch and was obviously well-worn.

I wanted to throw it. I wanted to beat on Taggart some more to vent my frustration. But instead, I kept my cool. And I thought about my assets again.

_Had I thoroughly checked the body_?

Realizing that I had one more shot, I reached over to the corpse next to me and pulled up his t-shirt. Bingo. He had on a belt.

I pulled the belt off of him, and vowed to myself that if this didn't work, I was going to chew through my own ankle so that I could escape.

I was _not_ going to die in here.

Period.

But the belt buckle prong was bigger and stronger and after several minutes of jiggling it around in the cuff lock, I was free.

I almost couldn't believe it.

I think it took me another whole minute for the realization to sink in, and then I got to my feet and headed for the door.

The door was open since I'm sure Taggart had no intention of being killed when he'd come to visit me. I looked out into the adjoining room and was surprised to find that I was in a cellar of some sort.

That explained why it was so cold. And damp.

I first went over to a utility sink and drank water from the faucet. I forced myself to only take small sips so that my stomach wouldn't reject it.

When I finished, I went straight to a work bench across the room and grabbed a heavy ball-peen hammer off the peg board.

If Rhonda showed up, I would have something for her.

Now that I was armed and my muscles seemed to be working decently, I looked around for the exit. There was only one door for the room that I was in besides the closet that I'd just come out of, so I headed in that direction.

The door was locked, of course, but it was a standard household wooden door, and it wasn't nearly enough to stop me.

Not when I had a hammer.

I vented my anger onto the door and made mince meat of the knob area and strike plate in no time. They were going to have to do better than a five-dollar knob lock to hold me in.

But then I was in another room.

There was a stairwell along the far wall, and I began running toward it, but then I stopped.

I heard footsteps over my head. They were light and cautious, like someone trying not to be heard.

Rhonda, sneaking up on Taggart because she was going to double cross him?

Or Mike, coming to rescue me?

I couldn't risk it.

If it was Mike, then I was saved anyway, because I was getting out of here.

If it was Rhonda, I didn't want to clue her in that I was loose. I would need to take her by surprise, because I didn't know if she had a gun. I'd had mine on me when Taggart had drugged me in the back of that van, but I didn't know where it was now.

I continued silently across the floor in my bare feet with the hammer held tightly in my hand. I couldn't hear the person upstairs anymore.

When I got to the stairs, I realized that the doors at the top were old fashioned cellar doors. The kind that led directly to the outdoors.

It was two doors together, normally with a padlock on them. And this time, there was a padlock on the inside and for some reason, Taggart had locked it.

So where the hell were the keys?

I'd looked on him. He didn't have anything.

I looked around the room frantically.

Now that I was so close to freedom, I couldn't let anything get in my way.

Why would he have locked up on the way in? Maybe he didn't trust Rhonda not to come after him. But why would he hide the key?

I climbed up the stairs and drew back to hit the lock with the hammer, but I paused in mid-swing.

Because I heard footsteps again, only this time, right outside the double doors.

I slipped back down the stairs, and my heart started racing as my mind went through the limitless possibilities as to who was on the other side.

And then I had to stifle a laugh at my own craziness.

It wasn't limitless.

It was either a good guy or a bad guy.

It was either Rhonda or Mike.

I was either going to live or die.

Okay, I had seriously gone around the bend. _Calm the fuck down, Carolyn_.

I stepped away from the stairwell and flattened myself against the side as best as I could.

_Breathe_, I reminded myself. I gripped the hammer tighter.

If it was Rhonda, and I could get her to pass me, I could jump her from behind.

If it was Mike, I was going to drop the hammer and just jump into his arms.

_Please let it be Mike…_

TBC...

A/N: This is tomorrow's chapter because I won't be around to post, so no more until Monday :)


	14. Chapter 14

**Carolyn POV**

* * *

I stood there in silence as I waited to find out who was on the other side of the door.

_Someone who wasn't expecting the doors to be locked from the inside,_ I realized as I heard the person jerk hard in an effort to open them.

And the strength that was used gave me fresh hope that it was Mike.

Almost enough to make me call out.

Almost, but not quite. Because it still could be Rhonda.

But then I heard it. A soft, muttered curse. _Shit_.

"Mike!" I yelled as I ran up the steps.

"Carolyn?"

"I'm down here!" I shouted, and then I started swinging the hammer at the lock.

Three good licks and the hasp broke.

I dropped the hammer as Mike pulled open the doors and the next thing I knew, I was in his arms.

"Oh my God, I was so afraid that I'd lost you," he said into my hair. I just closed my eyes and held on.

We stood there like that for several long moments before he asked me, "Are you hurt?"

"No. No, I'm okay."

"Where's Taggart?" he asked suddenly. I didn't ask how he'd figured out who it was. There would be plenty of time for me to catch up on the details.

"He's dead. I…I killed him."

He pulled back from me and put his hands on my cheeks, tilting my head up toward his.

"Good girl," he said firmly. "So he's down there?"

I nodded and then he pulled me against him again.

"We'll have to call the cops," he stated. "Bobby and Alex should be here any minute."

"What about Rhonda? This was her, right?"

"Uh huh. We're still looking, but we've got some good leads," he said. Then he stepped back from me and took off his jacket. "Here," he offered, slipping it onto my arms and then zipping it closed.

"Yeah, he took my clothes for some reason," I told him.

"I know," he replied, and at my confused look he added, "I'll tell you about it later."

He looked down at my bare feet and then he picked me up and started walking around toward the front of the house.

"I don't even know where we are," I admitted. Not that it really mattered. I was just happy to be in Mike's arms again.

"New Jersey," he replied. "Near Trenton."

"Logan!"

It was Bobby.

"I've got her!" Mike shouted back. We walked around the corner of the house, and then I saw Bobby and Alex both running toward us.

"Are you okay?" Alex asked me, her eyes filled with worry. Bobby looked just as bad, and I had no doubt that he'd easily put himself in Mike's shoes during this ordeal. He was sometimes empathetic to a fault.

"I'm fine, really," I promised them.

"Taggart's dead," Mike said. "We need to call the LEOs."

"I'll get Ross on the phone and let him smooth the way," Alex said. She pulled her phone from her pocket and dialed.

By now we were in the front of the house, and I saw the blue van parked in the driveway.

"I'm sure there's evidence in there somewhere," I told them. "That's the vehicle he used."

"We've bagged the items from the back of the van," Bobby said. "I'm sure the Trenton PD will be interested in checking out the house."

"The Trenton PD?" I questioned.

Even though I'd been found in New Jersey, I was taken from Brooklyn so they would have jurisdiction.

And that was assuming the kidnapping had even been reported.

"Did you call the cops?" I added.

"Uh…no. Not for the abduction," Mike answered. "I'll go over everything with you later, okay?"

I didn't like being kept in the dark, but considering the situation, I could understand. At the moment, all I wanted was food, more water, a shower, and Mike.

And not necessarily in that order.

"Ross is sending Bernard this way," Alex said when she hung up. "He'll stick around and make things right with the locals."

"Bernard?" I asked reflexively. And then I shook my head, "No, never mind. Later."

**

* * *

**

Logan POV

I had to admit that I really liked Bernard.

He would've been a good partner.

As it was, he showed up at the house within thirty minutes of us calling Ross.

And then he called the Trenton PD. They were a little upset by the delay, but Bernard was able to get them settled down and focused on the matter at hand, which was the old dead guy who had been in the closet.

Bernard handled the Taggart aspect since Carolyn had been kidnapped from New York. Ross had filled out the report and backdated it so that TPD would have the necessary paperwork showing that NYPD MCS had jurisdiction.

So once I answered a couple of questions about the discovery of the old man's body and then we all offered up our contact information, we were free to go.

"Go back toward 95. There's a couple of hotels at the interchange," one of the Trenton cops told us. I nodded at him gratefully and then shook his hand. They could've been real jerks about this whole thing, but they weren't.

So the four of us checked into the motel. No way was I driving two hours to go back to a home that still likely had five more bugs in it. The sweep wasn't going to happen until tomorrow.

Tomorrow was also when the news was going to report the death of Carolyn Barek.

Ross had made the suggestion, and I thought it was a good one, so now I just had to fill Carolyn in on the details.

And let her know how it was supposed to have been her.

_And_ I needed to find out what had happened with Taggart. She had gone quiet on me about half an hour ago, and I wondered what was on her mind.

But I needed to get her alone first.

"Give us a call when you wake up in the morning," Alex said as we parted ways in the hallway.

"It is morning," I replied obtusely. I didn't really consider pre-dawn hours as morning either.

"In the afternoon, then," she amended. "Whenever. But if you get something from Rhonda, let us know."

"I'm not going to wake you up to pass on a text from that psycho. Unless it's something urgent, it'll keep. We all need some sleep."

She didn't argue with me, but instead went into her room with Goren. I used the keycard for our room and then pushed the door open and let Carolyn enter in front of me.

"I hope you're planning on talking to me," I told her quietly once I had the door locked behind us.

"I will," she said, but her voice didn't inspire believability. "I'm going to take a shower first, okay?"

And then I realized that she wouldn't have anything to put on. I was ready to burn that flannel shirt of Taggart's, although I understood why she'd taken it.

"We'll figure it out in the morning," she said, reading my mind. "I'm not worried about clothes right now."

I nodded in understanding, and then watched her walk into the bathroom.

She stayed in the shower for nearly half an hour.

I didn't rush her or interrupt her, even though I desperately wanted to go in there.

Instead, I ordered us room service and then went down the hall to the drink machine and bought some bottles of water. I filled up the ice bucket, too, because I'd seen her hand. I was going to make her ice it after she ate.

I turned up the heat in the room and then shed my button-down shirt. I silently slipped into the bathroom and laid it on the counter so that she could put it on. I noticed that the flannel shirt was in the trash can.

"You don't have to leave," she said as I was on my way out the door. I guess I wasn't as quiet as I'd thought.

She pulled back the curtain and stuck her head out.

"Talk to me. Tell me everything that happened from your end," she said firmly.

She's a tough cookie, my Carolyn. But I also knew perfectly well that she was an expert at burying things deep inside.

"Only if you promise to go next," I replied. She held my gaze for a long moment before nodding her agreement.

So I started talking. She turned off the water and opened the curtain to reach for the towel. I held it out to her and let my eyes look her over carefully. I wasn't leering. I just wanted to see if she had any injuries.

The skin on her wrists and ankles was red, and one ankle was bruised quite a bit, but overall she looked okay. I relaxed marginally and kept talking.

I even admitted to doubting her.

"So I guess you're still not completely over the fact that I left you, huh?" she asked me softly as she bypassed her undergarments and instead went straight for my shirt. She pushed her arms into the sleeves and then I stood in front of her and did the buttons for her.

"I am," I countered. "Maybe I wasn't. But I am now."

"I was only gone for a day," she reminded me.

"No, you were gone for twenty-seven hours and fifty-three minutes," I corrected her. Finished with the buttons, I moved my hand up into her hair. "And I was wrong not to believe in you."

She gave me a small smile and wrapped her arms around me.

"I was afraid that you might think that I left," she admitted. "It was actually pretty smart of Rhonda to send that text from my phone."

"Yeah, she got me with that one. For a little while. And then Alex kicked my ass, and then kicked Goren's, too."

We were chuckling over my recount of the scene at the Gorens when we heard a knock on the door.

"I'm sure it's the food," I told her as I let her go, but I grabbed my weapon anyway. I approached the door and checked the peephole, but sure enough, it was room service.

Carolyn stayed in the bathroom while the man brought the food cart into the room, but as soon as he was gone, she grabbed two of the bottles of water from the dresser and sat down next to me on the bed.

We ate and then climbed under the covers together. I held her in my arms while I finished telling her about the investigation. She didn't react one way or another to any of the news except to hold me tighter when I talked about the body on our sidewalk.

And then when I finished talking, she told me about her time with Taggart. She concluded her story with how she'd stood in the cellar with a hammer in her hand, waiting to see if it would be Rhonda coming to kill her or me coming to save her.

"I didn't save you," I reminded her. "You saved yourself."

"Do you think they'll file charges against me?" she asked quietly.

"For what?"

"Mike, I killed a man."

"You killed a man who had kidnapped you and had you chained to the floor," I stated, desperately trying to keep the emotion from my voice. I couldn't stand the thought of her in that situation and I wanted to give her a damn medal for killing that guy.

"I could've at least tried to save him."

"You don't believe that. You were in fear for your life. There won't be any charges."

She was quiet for a few minutes, and I tried to think of the right thing to say. I'd killed men before. Sure, the situations had been different, but still…I knew some of what she might be feeling.

"So what's the next step?" she asked me, interrupting any thought I had to say something comforting.

"We're going to keep tracking Rhonda. We'll look into every name in those files and see if we can piece together her movements," I told her. And then I paused for a minute.

"And?"

"And the news is going to release the identity of the victim from last night. Except they're going to say that it's you."

"Because Rhonda wants me dead so that she can have you," she stated calmly.

"Right. Ross thinks that she'll contact me once the news confirms it."

"What do you think?"

"I think…that I'm not going to watch it. It damn near killed me to think that it was you last night. I don't want to relive that experience. Ever."

She fell silent again and I cursed the darkness. I needed to see her face, needed to know what she was thinking.

And then I felt her trembling. Her carefully constructed façade had finally crumbled.

She snuggled closer to me, burying her head against my chest and I could feel the warm wetness of her tears as they soaked into my t-shirt.

"That's it, sweetheart," I encouraged as I rubbed my hand over her back. "Let it out."

"I was so scared," she admitted, her voice breaking. "I thought that I'd never see you again."

"I'm right here, baby," I soothed, grateful that she was finally showing her emotion.

"Please just hold me. Don't let go."

"I won't. I'll never let you go."

I held her until she fell asleep from sheer exhaustion. But as tired as I was, I just couldn't fall asleep.

I had my Carolyn back, so my life was once again back in balance, but I wasn't going to rest until Rhonda was caught.

And heaven help her if I was the one to find her because I wasn't going to put her in jail.

For everything that she'd put Carolyn through, I was going to make her pay.

TBC...


	15. Chapter 15

**Bobby POV**

* * *

We went into the room and ordered dinner.

It didn't matter that it was nearly three a.m. We hadn't eaten hardly anything all day, and now that our worry was alleviated, our appetites had come flooding back.

"I'm going to find the drink machine and get us something," I told Alex as I grabbed my wallet off the dresser.

"Bring us back some ice," she replied.

"Is your hand bothering you?" I asked quickly, taking a step towards her so that I could look at it again.

"My hand is fine," she assured me. "Take your key. I'm going to get in the shower."

So I left the room with the image of Alex climbing into the shower fresh in my mind. I hadn't actually seen her do it, but I'd seen the sight enough to be able to supply my own visual.

Ten minutes later, I was back with drinks and a bucket of ice. I could hear the water running, so I set down the supplies and went into the bathroom.

"When we get back to the city, we need to see what's across the street from Steve-O's. I'm sure Ross didn't have a chance yet, and hopefully he's getting some rest now, too," I said as I started taking off my clothes.

"I don't want to think about what Ross is doing at this time of night," she replied quickly.

"What, you don't want to think about him stripping down to nothing and then climbing into the shower with Rodgers," I teased, and as I said the words, I pulled back the curtain and got into the shower with her.

"If that's supposed to be turning me on, you've lost your mind," she said, but she was laughing. "You know our rule."

"I know. Don't talk about Ross when we're naked."

"And definitely don't talk about _naked_ Ross when we're naked!"

"Got it," I agreed with a grin.

I took a moment to kiss her thoroughly, hating that it had been so long since we'd last had the opportunity. I'd thought that working for ourselves would allow us more time, but it wasn't looking that way yet.

I took the shampoo from the shelf and squeezed some into my hand. I motioned for her to turn around and then I worked the lather into her hair.

"I need you in here with me every time I take a shower," she said in a voice that sent my blood rushing south. "That feels so good."

"If you think that feels good," I replied suggestively as I stepped closer to her, pressing my heated skin against hers. "I have a few other ideas…"

And then someone knocked on the door.

"Are you kidding me?" she asked on a sigh. "That has to be the fastest room service in history."

"I guess they're not too busy at this time of night," I remarked regretfully as I got out of the shower and wrapped a towel around my waist. "I'll be right back."

I got our food and hustled the employee out the door, but by the time I got back to the bathroom, Alex had turned the shower off.

"I was coming back," I told her as she toweled herself off.

"I'm sorry. I'm starving," she replied. She wrapped the towel around her and then led the way from the bathroom. She gave my towel a little tug as she passed me. "And don't worry. You'll be coming soon enough."

So we sat on the bed in our towels and ate hamburgers. It probably wasn't the best choice of food considering the late hour, but they were good.

And it didn't hurt that I had the promise of dessert later.

"How's your arm?" Alex asked me as she finished off the last of her burger.

"It's okay," I told her. "A little sore, but not bad."

"I was afraid that you were going to get carried away with Taggart."

"Me? Get carried away?" I teased.

"Yeah, imagine that."

"How's your hand? You _did_ get carried away with Taggart."

"He had it coming."

"I know. I can't believe he was seriously planning to keep her locked up like that. If she hadn't gotten away, Adam might've taken her and hit the road by now."

"Uh huh," she agreed. "Did you hear her statement to Bernard?"

"No."

"She blinded him with ammonia, kicked him in the nuts and then beat him to death."

"That's what she said?" I asked in amazement.

"In a nutshell, yeah. She managed to get the tape off of her by the time he came back. He must have left her alone while he went to kill Tonya Elroy. Then he drove the body to Brooklyn, made the dump while we were at the park, and came back here later."

I thought about that, about what Carolyn had gone through. She was pretty tough and resourceful, but still…that would be hard for anyone to deal with.

I stacked our dishes and trash back onto the tray and set it outside the room door and then dropped my towel and got in the bed.

I sighed heavily as I stretched out. It had been a long _long_ day, and I was exhausted.

"What do you think?" Alex asked me as she pulled off her towel and climbed into the bed next to me.

Several minutes had passed in silence between then and now, but I still had a good idea of who was on her mind.

"About Carolyn?" I confirmed.

"She seemed pretty calm," she remarked as she pressed her body up against mine. Suddenly rest didn't seem quite as urgent as it had a moment before.

"Too calm," I agreed. "Even for her."

"I know. And just when she was starting to open up more. I think maybe she should talk to someone."

"You mean like a shrink?" I asked in surprise, although I had to admit to losing some of my focus. Alex was running her hands over me, barely skimming my skin with her fingernails.

"Uh huh," she replied. "Like Olivet. Or maybe Skoda."

"I don't think Olivet would be a good idea," I mumbled.

"Why not?"

"Do you remember Mike saying that he slept with a department shrink to get cleared for duty?"

"Her? Are you serious?"

Her shock at my confession on Mike's behalf caused her hands to stop moving.

"You don't have to stop," I encouraged and she smiled at me and resumed her stroking. "But yeah, Olivet. Who did you think it was?"

"I…didn't really…give it any thought, I guess," she admitted. "Huh. Okay, well probably not Olivet then."

"Alex," I whispered as she slid her leg across mine and then stretched out on top of me.

"Yeah?"

"Can we talk about shrinks another time maybe?"

"What do you want to talk about instead?"

"I want you to tell me why I needed to get a bucket of ice."

"Ah…and see, I almost forgot about that," she told me as she sat up, still straddling my lap.

She started to get up, but I held onto her hips.

"Where are you going?"

"I was thinking I could pay up on part of our bet," she replied.

I'm not going to lie. I was intrigued.

But despite the spark in her eye, I knew that she was also pretty damn tired.

And I didn't want her to have to do all of the work.

Because while I wasn't one hundred percent sure what she had in mind, I was pretty sure that I knew the gist of it.

And honestly, I'd rather wait until we were both up to the challenge, so I told her as much.

She shifted her hips, increasing the pressure between us, and gave me a seductive smile.

"I think you're up to the challenge," she countered. But then she leaned down to kiss me slowly. When she pulled back, she whispered, "But it can wait. If you're sure…"

"I'm trying to be good, here," I told her as she started kissing her way down my chest. "But you're making it very hard."

She started chuckling somewhere in the vicinity of my stomach, and she stopped kissing me to look up at me.

"I have so many responses to that remark that I don't know where to start," she said, and then she resumed her earlier path.

"Honey, laughing is not usually what a guy wants to hear when you're so close to his…"

But then words left me.

Because suddenly she wasn't laughing anymore. And she wasn't just close.

She was right _there_.

My chivalrous intent of doing the work myself…gone.

My plan to have her for dessert rather than the other way around…gone.

I didn't want to know where she'd learned the things that she was doing to me. I decided to go with the theory that she was just a natural.

Any remaining rational thought in my head abandoned me as I threw my head back into the pillow and closed my eyes.

_Holy Mary Mother of God_.

"You have to breathe, Bobby," she whispered, her breath tickling my skin. And then she started up again.

_Breathing is overrated_, I decided.

As long as she kept doing what she was doing, I would die a happy man. But did I want to die just yet?

I sucked in a ragged breath to gain some much-needed oxygen. And then I ran my fingers through her hair and opened my eyes so that I could watch her every move.

Because I wasn't going to last much longer.

And as tempted as I was to just ride this thing out, I didn't want it to be over this way. I felt the overwhelming need to be inside of her.

"Alex," I managed to groan, and I wondered how in the hell I was going to put any additional words together.

But this was Alex and she knows me better than I know myself.

She kissed her way back up until she was once again stretched out over top of me.

I kissed her hard and then in one fluid motion, I rolled us over and pushed into her.

And the sound she made nearly did me in. That sound…as though there wasn't a better feeling in the world for her.

Of course, I could relate. I wondered how I'd survived nearly five decades without experiencing this level of pleasure.

Reality hit me hard when pain shot up my right arm, reminding me that I wasn't yet ready to support my weight on it.

But I'm a quick thinker. I simply adjusted slightly to the left and took all my weight on the one arm.

Apparently Alex liked the move because then she started talking dirty to me. When she does that, my hopes of lasting longer than another two minutes are shot all to hell. But that's okay, because usually her stream of suggestions and offers are generally a pretty good indicator that she's about there, too.

And she was.

For a moment, I thought I'd outlast her, but I'd been expecting her to yell and she didn't.

Instead, she said my name in a soft voice of rapture followed by a series of whispered _I love yous. _

I was done for.

Once upon a time, I would've lain down beside her while attempting to catch my breath, but I'd learned that she liked the press of my weight on top of her. It was a testament to her strength that she didn't crack under the pressure, but this was Alex. She pulled me down to her and ran her fingers down my back.

"You're all sweaty," she said after a moment. She sounded pleased with herself.

"So are you," I murmured. I had my face against hers, my mouth near her ear. I felt her shiver as my breath tickled her. "I like you sweaty."

"That was pretty impressive for a one-armed man."

"I had excellent motivation."

"You know we'll have to take another shower in the morning."

"Huh. Well that's a damn shame."

I finally rolled onto my side and pulled her up against me. I wasn't normally one for sleep immediately after a session like that, but this time would be an exception.

"I want to run out and find a store after we get up, somewhere that I can get Carolyn something to wear."

"Okay."

"And she should go by to see Liz when we get back."

"You mean our personal physician?" I asked.

"You know as well as I do that she won't go anywhere else. But she should get checked out."

"Okay."

"I wonder why Rhonda hasn't contacted Logan yet. It's been several hours since the murder. I thought for sure that she would've had something to say about it. Maybe take credit for it, or offer her sympathy."

"I don't know," I replied. And normally not knowing would bother me, but at the moment, I was about five seconds away from sleep. "But she's cooking up something. We can't let him go home until we find her."

"Or we do," she said slowly.

"Let her find him?"

"That's what I'm thinking."

"Well, quit thinking," I teased. "And go to sleep. We'll think more tomorrow."

TBC...


	16. Chapter 16

**Rodgers POV**

* * *

It was after one o'clock in the morning and I was still at the morgue going over the evidence that had been found on Tonya Elroy's body.

When Danny called, I kicked my assistant out of the room. He'd come in just to give me a hand, but if the news was bad, I didn't want there to be any witnesses to my reaction.

"She's okay, Liz," Danny told me as soon as I answered. "They found her, and she's okay."

"Oh thank God," I breathed out.

At that moment, I realized just how sure I'd been that the call was going to be vastly different. Despite her resourcefulness, after seeing the damage done to Tonya Elroy, I couldn't help but fear for Carolyn's life.

"What happened?"

"I don't have many details yet. Alex just called. She said that Adam Taggart is dead. I've got Bernard heading there now to deal with the locals."

"Carolyn killed him?"

"I don't know. Mike found her, so it may have been him. Like I said, I don't have the details. I'm trusting Bernard to handle it."

"Okay," I replied absently. I leaned against the counter and took in a deep breath. "I guess we don't need to worry so much about the evidence now, huh? Carolyn's safe and the killer is already dead."

"They're still tracking Rhonda," he reminded me. "But they're pretty sure that Taggart and Rhonda had separated so I don't think it's quite as vital as now, no. But we do need a favor."

"From me?"

"Yes."

"Name it."

"It's not exactly by the book."

"Danny…"

"We need you to put Carolyn's name on the official report. Unofficially. We want the press to run the story with her name so that Rhonda believes she's dead."

"Done."

"Liz, you should run it by your boss. I don't want you getting into trouble over this."

"I'm not going to wake him up at this time of night. I don't mind looking a little incompetent if it helps their case. I'll release the name and then I can catch my mistake whenever you're ready to release the correct information."

He was quiet for a minute, but then he said, "Thanks, Liz."

"Do you think it'll help?"

"I don't know. But at the very least, it should keep Carolyn safe for the time being. Otherwise, I have a feeling that Rhonda's going to keep after her. According to the Gorens, she sees Carolyn as the lone obstacle that keeps her from Logan."

"Normally, I'd say that's crazy, but if Alex and Bobby believe it, well…I'm on board. What else can I do?"

"You've been there forever. Come home."

I didn't argue. I _had_ been here forever.

I called my assistant back into the room and together we wrapped things up for the night.

"Anything else I can do, Dr. Rodgers?"

"Keep checking with the lab on the substance I collected from the girl's cheek," I told him. "When they know something, I want to hear about it, okay?"

"You got it."

I headed for home and arrived there at the same time as Danny.

"You've been working all this time, too?" I asked him as we went up the front walk together.

"I was home base," he replied with a shrug. "They kept finding leads, so I kept running things through the system."

"Anything interesting?"

"I've got a lot of printouts," he admitted, tipping his head towards his briefcase. "I thought maybe you'd look through them with me."

"So you wanted me home just for the extra set of eyes."

"I wanted you home," he began as he locked up behind us. He dropped his briefcase to the floor and pulled me into a hug. "Because I missed you."

I relaxed in his arms, enjoying his newfound willingness to admit his feelings.

Some day I'd have to thank Mike and Bobby for that. Whether he would ever confess to it or not, Danny seemed to be following their lead on things like that. He knew I envied their relationships, and so he was working harder to make ours better.

"I need to get out of these clothes," I said at last as I pulled away from him. "Fix me a drink and I'll meet you in the living room. We'll go through the papers together."

I shed the two-day-old scrubs as soon as I got into the bedroom, and then decided that I needed a quick shower. I could usually do a forty-eight hour shift without much thought, but the added stress of worrying about Carolyn had just about done me in.

As I pulled the shower door closed and stepped under the hot spray, I heard Danny come into the room.

"I was coming down," I told him.

"I changed my mind," he said. "The immediate danger has passed. We need to take a break and get some rest."

"I think that is possibly the best idea you've had in weeks," I replied.

"Wait until you hear what else I have in mind."

That remark, coupled with his tone of voice, had me opening the shower door to look at him.

Because this was Danny.

He had many fine qualities and I loved him dearly, but Don Juan he was not.

He stood just outside of the shower with a towel in his hand.

"Are you ready to get out?" he asked.

"I…um…yes," I managed to say. I hadn't finished, but suddenly the shower didn't seem so important anymore.

He'd completely thrown me for a loop.

So I shut off the water and stepped out onto the mat.

I reached for the towel, but he shook his head and kept it in his hand. He slowly looked me up and down, and then he stepped up close and proceeded to dry me off.

When he finished, he stood up and turned around to the counter. There were two glasses of Scotch sitting there, so he picked them up and handed one to me.

"Feeling more relaxed?" he asked me after taking a sip.

"I'm getting there," I replied with a smile.

"Good. Let's go to bed."

"I don't think I can sleep just yet," I told him.

"I didn't say anything about sleep."

I tossed back the rest of my Scotch and then set my glass on the counter and followed my husband into the bedroom.

Maybe I'd rushed to judgment. Maybe he had a few moves after all.

Hey, we were still newlyweds. It was about damn time we started acting like it.

**

* * *

**

Alex POV

I woke up at eight feeling well-rested. Even though it had only been a little over four hours, it was enough for now.

As soon as my eyes were open, my mind was racing, and when I turned over to face Bobby, I found him awake and looking at me.

"There's something in the names of those men we found," he said.

"Good morning," I countered with a smile.

He pushed me onto my back and hovered over me, returning my smile.

"I'm sorry. How rude of me," he teased. "Good morning."

He leaned down to kiss me and pressed his hips against me, instantly sending a tingling sensation throughout my body.

"Don't start what you can't finish," I told him.

"I can finish," he whispered, his lips now kissing the area around my ear.

"It's eight," I argued weakly. "We need to get busy."

"That's what I'm trying to do," he said. His hands were up in my hair and my resolve was crumbling. Not that I'd been all that opposed to begin with.

"Bobby…"

He stopped my words by bringing his lips to mine and kissing me. It was slow and deliberate and was enough to make my toes curl even without the added benefit of feeling his hard length pressed against me.

"If we do this now, then it'll clear my mind up," he added reasonably after he pulled away.

He didn't need to convince me. I was well past the point of saying no.

But then he completely did me in when he lowered his voice and added, "Otherwise I'll only be able to think about how much I need to be inside of you."

And as he said the words, he shifted slightly and slid inside.

I released a long, drawn-out sigh and met his gaze as he began a steady pace.

There was something to be said for making love in the morning. It was a pretty good way to start the day.

"Maybe I like knowing that's what you're thinking about," I finally managed to say, picking up our conversation again.

"Okay, so I lied," he admitted. "I'll still be thinking about it. But I thought we should take advantage of the opportunity while we have it. Who knows when I'll have you alone again?"

"Excellent point," I agreed, and I let my eyes fall closed.

"Uh uh," he said softly. "Open your eyes. I want you to stay right with me."

So I did. I held his gaze the entire time, which only served to make it that much better. If that was even possible.

But watching him and seeing the emotion in his eyes, and then remembering how long it took for us to get _right here_…it was a little overwhelming.

And as he took both of us over the edge together, a few tears slipped from my eyes.

"Are you okay?" he murmured into my hair as he worked to catch his breath.

"Yeah. That was…that was just…"

Words escaped me as I worked to rein in my emotion. I couldn't explain why I was suddenly so choked up.

Bobby pulled back to look at me again, and I realized that I didn't need to explain.

"I know," he said in understanding, even though my words had been woefully inadequate. He wiped the tears from my face and then stretched out beside me, taking my hand in his and lacing his fingers through mine.

We laid together in silence for several long minutes.

"So you think we need to go back through her potential targets?" I said at last.

I was feeling myself again, and it was amazing to me that it no longer made me panic to show vulnerability to Bobby. He would never see me as weak. I could be open to him in ways that I'd never been with anyone.

"I think so," he replied. "She's maintained her scams continuously, and her latest one is over. The discovery of his body is going to shut down her cash machine. She'll need to move on to the next one. Logan is her pet project, but like you said, he doesn't have money. She'll need to find a new source of funding."

"So we go back through the list," I stated. "And we keep tracking her via the cell phone towers, and we find out the angle from which the pictures were taken. That's about it though, huh?"

"Well, we have to keep Carolyn hidden. Maybe she can go to work with Liz for now. She can use the computers there and stay under the radar."

"That's a good idea."

"And I think your suggestion last night is something we should explore. We know there are bugs at Mike's house. Maybe we send him home and let him provide her with some misinformation."

"Okay," I agreed. I rolled away from him and sat up in the bed. "Time to get back to it. I want to run out and find Carolyn some clothes. I know it's just for the ride back to the city, but still…she can't go like that."

I got up and walked across the room, heading for the bathroom.

"You can give her your clothes," he suggested with a raise of his eyebrows.

"Then what would I wear?"

"You look lovely just as you are."

"Very funny."

"I wasn't trying to be funny," he insisted as he got up from the bed. He came into the bathroom and grabbed me from behind. "I can't help it if I enjoy the view."

"So you'd really want me to go out like this?"

"Um…maybe not," he admitted with a grin. "I don't want to share you with anyone."

"That's what I thought," I answered. I caught his gaze in the mirror, and noticed how thick his beard was getting. I reached up and rubbed my hand over his face. "I like the beard."

"I remember you telling me that the day I picked you up at the ferry station."

"You remember that?"

"I remember every word of that conversation. You had me so worked up in the car…I really thought that I was going to embarrass myself."

I turned in his arms and held him tightly against me.

"You had me pretty worked up, too," I admitted. "You still get me worked up. It doesn't take much more than a look from you."

"Or a word," he added, speaking for himself, but it was true for me too.

But the idea that he remembered that encounter at the ferry station gave me another thought.

"I wonder if Rhonda remembers everything about the first time she met Mike," I said as I stepped away from Bobby and turned on the shower.

"You mean, like maybe it holds some kind of special place in her mind?"

"Yeah. Maybe it's a place she still goes, or maybe she'd be willing to meet him there if he made contact with her."

"Or we could send him there alone, as though he's thinking of her. Let her believe that he's pining for her."

"You think she'd believe that after all that's happened?"

"She's a narcissist," he reminded me. "She'll believe anything that's flattering to her. In her mind, Carolyn was a speed bump. She's gone, and so now Mike can come back to her. And if we set it up right, I bet it'll work."

TBC...


	17. Chapter 17

**Carolyn POV **

* * *

It was very possibly the first time I'd ever cried myself to sleep.

Even after my family was killed, I'd just felt empty and lost rather than emotional.

But last night, when Mike held me and I remembered the feeling of desperation that I'd had when I was chained in that room…the stark fear that I would never see him again…those things hit me like a ton of bricks and before I knew it, the tears were pouring out of me.

I don't know how long I cried. But it was a long time while I listened to his soothing words of love and felt his comforting hands on my back.

But one minute I was snuggled tightly against Mike, and then the next thing I knew, I was back in the closet.

Only this time, when I sprayed Taggart, it didn't have any effect on him.

"_Nice try, bitch," _he said as he backhanded me across the face. _"Did you really think I'd leave a potential weapon in here with you?"_

He stepped closer to me and I threw a punch at him, but he blocked it with little effort and instead, shoved me back down to the floor.

"_Rhonda wanted you dead. She said that you're a worthless piece of crap and that Logan deserves better. My brother says you're a self-righteous little bitch. I think they're both right. But I bet I can make you come around to my way of thinking."_

I tried to get to my feet, but he hit me again, and I started seeing stars. I kicked at him, blindly hoping to land something. I needed to protect myself, but none of my usual tricks were working.

"_I saved your life. I'd think you'd be a little more grateful,"_ he stated as he stood over me. He undid the buckle on his belt and started to unzip his pants. _"In fact, why don't you show me just how appreciative you are?"_

He dropped his pants and reached for me, and I started striking out at him, hitting anything I could reach in desperate defiance.

"No! Stop!" I screamed.

"Hey, it's okay. I've got you."

"Let me go!"

"It's me, sweetheart. It's okay."

I woke up in a cold sweat, still enveloped in Mike's arms.

And then I cried some more.

Then I was in the closet again.

Only this time, I had my gun.

I'd managed to break free from my duct tape and when I reached up on the shelf, there it was.

So I stood there in my underwear, shivering from anger and cold, when I heard footsteps.

_I am going to kill this son of a bitch, and then shoot through the chain on the cuffs and get the hell out of here_.

I aimed the weapon at approximate eye level and as I heard the key in the lock, I began to put pressure on the trigger.

_Come on in_, I thought. _I've got something for you_.

The door came open, and I fired off a shot.

But it wasn't Taggart.

It was Mike, coming to rescue me.

"_No!"_ I screamed, nearly breaking my ankle as I lunged for his crumpled form.

He fell into a heap on the floor in the doorway, and I couldn't reach him

A second later, Taggart stepped over him as he came into the room.

"_I knew you'd find the gun,"_ he said with a smile. I brought it up to point it at his head, but this time when I pulled the trigger, nothing came out. _"Did you think I was dumb enough to put more than one bullet in there?" _he added with a laugh.

I looked helplessly at Mike, watching as his blood pooled onto the floor around him.

"_I'm sorry,"_ I whispered as I fell to my knees. _"I'm so sorry. Oh my God, I'm so sorry."_

"Carolyn, wake up honey."

I opened my eyes and found Mike staring at me intently. I realized that I was still crying.

_I was crying in my sleep_, I thought in disgust. _How pathetic is that_?

But then I remembered why. I'd killed Mike.

Why would I dream something like that? What did that mean?

I wasn't going to analyze it now.

Without a word, I pushed him onto his back before straddling him and taking him in completely.

He was ready. He was almost always ready.

"I need you," I told him. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, sweetheart," he said softly. His hands rested gently on my hips, but he let me manage the pace.

"I just…I just…" I began, unsure of what I wanted to say. "I need you," I said again, settling for the basics.

"You've got me. I'm all yours, okay? Whatever you want. Whatever you need."

My tears began to subside in converse proportion to my increase of desire. When I'd started this encounter, I wasn't really interested in sex, but rather the affirmation of life.

I'd simply needed to feel him in the most intimate of ways.

But as I continued to move over him, I was overcome with the animalistic urge to dominate. It was slightly unsettling at first, but then the psych 101 part of my brain spoke up.

_You were held captive at another's mercy for more than a day – of course you're seeking to take back your control!_

"Whatever you need," Mike said again, and his encouragement broke through my final barrier.

From that point on, it was a frenzy of lips and hands, teeth and nails, demands and acquiescence. He gave me utter control over every movement, every word, every pleasure.

We went on and on for quite some time until suddenly I decided that I'd had enough.

Because I didn't want to control him.

I just wanted _my_ control _back_. And he'd let me have it.

Sensing my change in perspective, he brought me down to him, resting my body flush against his and then he kissed me. And he did it so sweetly, so reverently…

"I love you," I told him when I pulled back from the kiss. "I love you so much. I'm sorry I'm such a mess right now."

"It's fine, sweetheart," he soothed. "You had another bad dream?"

"I…" I stopped since my first response was to lie. I didn't want him to worry about me, or feel sorry for me. But I also wasn't going to lie. "Yes."

"You don't have to talk about it," he assured me.

And then he began a slow pace, barely moving at all and yet it was perfect.

"Be patient with me," I sighed, resting my cheek against his.

"Always."

A half hour later, we finally got out of the bed.

I was feeling a little more like myself. I drank some water in an effort to re-hydrate myself and then I went into the bathroom just as Mike was getting out of the shower.

"Hungry this morning?" he asked me.

"I am," I replied.

Last night, I'd had trouble getting interested in food despite being ravenously hungry to being with. The first few bites had suggested potential rebellion from my stomach.

"Good. We'll get cleaned up and get something to eat."

He'd left the water running, so I climbed into the shower and washed away the remnants of my nightmares.

"I'm going to call Alex and let her know we're up," he called out. "We need to see about getting you some clothes, too."

"Okay," I replied.

Right. Because my clothes were in the morgue after being put on a dead woman.

My rings, too.

I heard a knock on the door, and then mumbled voices as Mike spoke to whoever was there. Probably Alex and Bobby.

I tuned them out and let my mind wander.

Rhonda was still after Mike. She'd ordered me dead. Today the news was going to report that I _was_ dead.

Thankfully, everyone I cared about knew the truth. Which was kind of a sad statement.

I could count on one hand the number of people who would mourn my death.

I felt tears well up in my eyes again, and then that pissed me off. I was not going to turn into some simpering, sobbing mess of emotions.

Angrily, I turned the water off and whipped back the curtain.

"You've been in there a long time," Mike said. He stood casually against the counter with a bag in his hands. "Alex bought you some clothes."

He set the bag down and walked closer to me.

"What is it? You look like you're ready to kill someone."

_Like I killed you in my dream…_

"I'm…I just…I can't seem to get a handle on myself."

"It's the drugs," he said carefully.

"What?"

"Rodgers called a minute ago. Tonya Elroy's tox report came back. She was injected with a combination of hydromorphone, tramadol, and risperdal. It's an original cocktail, so she's guessing Taggart hit you up with the same thing."

"Risperdal?" I repeated. It was an anti-psychotic.

"Uh huh," he confirmed with a small smile. "So while that's not a great thing to have in your system…"

"As soon as it goes away, I can quit my emotional roller coaster," I finished.

And then I let out a huge sigh of relief.

I despised drugs.

I abhorred the loss of control that came from getting high.

And okay, so I did drink alcohol. But I avoided everything else.

And even though I wasn't thrilled to know that I'd had a combination of depressants, narcotics, and a sleep aid injected into me against my will, I was glad to know that I hadn't gone crazy.

The weepiness and the flare-ups of anger would go away.

"You're going to be fine," he assured me, putting his hands on my cheeks. "The drugs have probably made you feel strange, but a little emotion in a situation like this is normal. I don't have to tell you that."

"I know. I can handle some emotion," I promised. And I could, just not _only_ emotion. I needed to feel some solid footing, too.

He kissed me quickly and then stepped back and handed me a towel.

"Alex and Bobby are waiting for us downstairs," he told me. "They suggested that maybe you hang out at the morgue today."

"To stay out of sight."

"Well, yeah. The morning news already reported…what it was…supposed to report."

"My death."

"Right."

"Rhonda hasn't contacted you yet?" I asked as I peeked into the bag that Mike had set on the counter. I definitely owed Alex for this. She'd bought me new everything, which was good because I wasn't even taking that underwear home with me. It was going in the trash.

"Not yet."

"But we have a plan," I stated as I pulled on the clothes.

"I think they have a few ideas," he replied. "But we'll talk about it over breakfast. There's food down in the hotel lobby."

I finished dressing and we left the room. We hadn't brought anything in with us, so there was nothing to pack.

In the elevator on the way down to the lobby, Mike picked up my hand.

"I want you to think about talking to someone. Even if it's just Alex or Liz."

"I can talk to you," I countered.

"Yes, you can. And I hope that you will. But it wouldn't hurt to open up to someone who isn't quite so close to the situation."

"You mean like a shrink."

"I believe you've sent me to one a time or two," he said with a smile.

"I'll think about it."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

We went into the lobby and filled our plates before sitting down at a table with Alex and Bobby.

"Thanks for the clothes," I told her.

"No problem. You look a lot better today. Did you sleep?"

"Some. I have a feeling that I'll do better tonight."

"So what do we know?" Mike asked as he put a cup of coffee in front of me.

"Do you remember where you first met Rhonda?" Bobby asked him.

"Why?" he replied cautiously. I had a feeling that I wasn't going to like this, although I knew that Mike wasn't either. And what was worse was that I would be stuck in the morgue.

_Although it could've been for real,_ I reminded myself.

"I think we're going to try to recreate history."

TBC...


	18. Chapter 18

**Logan POV**

* * *

I was extremely relieved when Rodgers told me about the drugs.

Because before that, I'd been pretty damn worried about Carolyn.

And I knew that she'd been through an ordeal, and I knew that she had to deal with having killed someone, but still…she really wasn't herself. Not even close.

All night, she'd alternately cried or whimpered and then struck out at me in her sleep. I wasn't going to tell her that she'd gotten a good shot in to my jaw. I was still bruised enough that hopefully she wouldn't notice.

I'd just held on to her as best as I could and tried to comfort her. I barely slept a wink all night.

And then this morning…

I knew it was about control for her. She needs it like she needs water. And for that asshole Taggart to leave her feeling so helpless, well…it had to be doing a number on her head.

So the only thing that I could think of to do was to hand over the reins. And I'll admit it. It wasn't a hardship for me. Physically, anyway. Emotionally, it broke my heart to see her so conflicted.

But I stayed submissive and went along with whatever she wanted. Until she realized that controlling me _wasn't_ what she wanted. It was merely an extension of what had been done to her.

I felt like we'd made some kind of breakthrough at that point, but I was still concerned.

And then, while she was in the shower, I got the news from Liz.

"A cocktail like that will have her emotions bouncing around like a pinball," she'd told me. And then _I'd_ nearly cried. From relief.

"So, she'll be more back to normal after the drugs get completely out of her system," I confirmed.

"More so, yes. But it doesn't take away what she's been through."

"Oh, I know. And she's hanging in there. I'm just really glad to hear you say that."

"You know, I used to volunteer at the crisis center," she told me. "I've been trained in counseling for various types of traumatic experiences. If she wants to talk..."

"Thanks, Rodgers. I owe you. We'll see you in a few hours."

"There's something else," she said, stopping me from hanging up the phone.

"What else did you find?" I asked anxiously.

Rodgers didn't waste words. If she said there was something else, then it was important.

"I found trace amounts of fiberglass on Tonya Elroy's face."

"Fiberglass?"

"From construction-grade insulation," she elaborated. "It was on the ring of your killer. When he hit her repeatedly, some of it transferred onto her face."

I was quiet while I considered that. I had a good idea of where it had come from, but I wasn't sure if it would help us or not.

"Logan?"

"Yeah. Just thinking. Okay. Anything else?"

"That's it for now. I'll call you if something else turns up."

I hung up with her and took Carolyn the clothes. I could tell she was happy to hear about the drugs in her system. I didn't even have to give her the breakdown of what each drug would do to her.

She knew what they were.

She may be in a game of ping pong with her feelings, but she was still smart as hell.

"Risperdal?"

"Uh huh," I nodded, and I managed a small smile. "So while that's not a great thing to have in your system…"

"As soon as it goes away, I can quit my emotional roller coaster," she finished.

Her vulnerability at the moment was tugging at my heart, but after offering her some words of encouragement, I left her alone to get ready. I figured she would want a moment to pull herself together.

As I waited for her, I thought more about Rodgers' offer.

I knew if I told Carolyn that she needed a shrink, then she would resist. So as we headed down for the lobby, I tried to make the suggestion feel natural.

And I threw Alex's name out there because she was a friend, and she'd certainly been through a similar situation. I actually had little doubt that she would eventually talk to Alex, but it might take awhile due to our current situation.

And I thought that sooner would be better than later. Carolyn was going to be holed up with Liz for at least a day or two.

I'd bet money that she'd open up. It didn't hurt that Liz would probably be prodding from her end, too.

"I promise," she told me, agreeing to consider it. That was all I could ask.

We got to the lobby, grabbed some food, and then I went to find the coffee machine. I filled two cups and then went back to the table.

"Some. I have a feeling that I'll do better tonight," Carolyn was telling Alex.

And I could tell she was in her full armor this morning. The best that she had at the moment, anyway. She didn't want anyone feeling sorry for her.

What she didn't know was that everyone thought she was amazing for being able to save herself.

"So what do we know?" I asked.

"Do you remember where you first met Rhonda?" Goren asked me, and I immediately didn't like the direction we were headed.

"Why?"

"I think we're going to try to recreate history."

"My history with Rhonda?" I yelled, losing a handle on my temper. I'll blame it on lack of sleep, but that didn't help me control it at the moment. "Why would she ever go for that? As far as she knows, she just killed my wife!"

"Mike," Alex said in a calm voice. "Just listen."

"Listen while you try to eHarmony me with the psycho-bitch? You've both lost your minds."

"Mike."

This time it was Carolyn and her tone was chastising.

It said that I was jumping the gun.

It said that I was being unreasonable.

It said that I was being Mike Logan, the hothead, instead of Mike Logan, best friend of the Gorens.

Amazing how she could say my name and I could interpret all of that. Although maybe she was just channeling my conscience.

I took a deep breath and made an effort to start this conversation over.

"Okay. Sorry."

"It's okay," Alex told me, patting my hand.

And then I felt even worse. They were trying to help me and I was being a complete ass.

"Rhonda might not know you two are married," Goren began, and I was glad that we were going to move past my outburst. "You just got the license a month ago. It takes time before these things are made public record. She would've had to have looked for it pretty recently. And she was still referring to Carolyn as Barek."

"How does that help?" Carolyn asked.

"It doesn't really. But it might make it easier for her to believe that he'd be able to move on."

"You want me to move on to _her_."

"She stuck on you for some reason. We don't know the reason yet, so we need to try to backtrack and find out what's going on. She _wants_ to believe in you. She _wants_ to think that you'll want her. It won't be a hard sell."

"But he doesn't fit the profile," Carolyn argued. "Is it purely sexual?"

"We think he's just the one who got away. She's always been able to manipulate men. And as far as she's concerned, she manipulated Mike the first time around. But then the next time she called him, when she wanted him to do her bidding, he was with you."

"So she blames me for him being an unwilling participant."

"Essentially," Goren agreed. "Because she can't fathom the possibility that he'd reject her on his own."

"Surely you're not the first to turn her down," Carolyn said, looking at me. "I find it hard to believe that she's always gotten what she wanted."

"I think it's because of who she chooses," I suggested. I'd been giving this a lot of thought. "Half of the time, she trolls cop bars. Single cops who are out drinking, usually after a difficult day, and she offers them company."

"True," Alex agreed. "It would be like shooting fish in a barrel."

"So then the other half of the time she's after rich men," Goren picked up. "But she always has some kind of game. She's researched them enough to have an in. With Raleigh, she used his son. She picked his brain and then played into the old man's hand."

"That means that these other targets we found…she's been researching them," Alex said.

"You found other targets?" Carolyn asked. I kept forgetting how much she'd missed over the course of one day. "Rich men?"

"We did," Alex agreed. "She's been doing her homework. We don't know who's next on her list, but she'll pick someone and soon. So we need for you to use the computer at the morgue to go through these names and see if something jumps out at you. We're going to work on Rhonda through the surveillance photos she took of you guys." She glanced at Bobby and he continued the train of thought.

"And Mike's going to go to the house and let her think he's ready to move on," he said. At my raised eyebrows he shrugged. "I don't know exactly how you want to do it. Have a fake phone conversation or talk to yourself…something. She's going to be listening because she can't wait to hear how you're handling things. So make it good."

"You really think that'll work?" Carolyn asked. And then Goren outlined the personality traits that we'd learned thus far, and Carolyn was nodding her head before he'd even finished. "Okay. You've sold me."

Then she turned to me and added, "Hey, did we find out why she's using your mother's name?"

"That's another thing," Alex said. "It has to be something."

"White Horse," I explained to Carolyn. "Rhonda's house, under her real name of Renee Yoder, is in White Horse. That's where my mother was born."

"How would she know that? Better yet, _why_ would she know that? If she wanted dirt on you, why in the world would it matter where your mother was born?"

"That's one more thing that we need to find out."

Two hours later, we were back in the city. I'd wanted to put the siren back on, but I figured I'd better not push it, so I drove along with the rest of the throng of civilians.

I'd called ahead to Rodgers and arranged to come into their parking garage, where the meat wagon off-loaded the cadavers. It felt a little creepy, but I couldn't risk the remote possibility that Rhonda had her eye on the morgue.

"You're going to be careful," Carolyn stated as she got out of the car. I got out, too and walked around to the front of the vehicle.

"I will," I promised.

"And keep in touch."

"I will," I said again. She reached up and ran her hand along my cheek.

"You're all scruffy," she said with a smile. "I don't usually see you like this."

"Well, I've kind of had more important things to do."

Although the way her hand felt running across the stubble made me consider a new shaving regiment of every _other_ day.

She went up on her toes and gave me a kiss and then stepped away from me.

"Don't underestimate her," she added.

"I'll be back later," I told her. "Talk to Liz. And find us a good lead."

"Okay."

We looked at each other from across the ten feet of concrete floor, her with her hand on the door and me with my back to the hood of the car.

I didn't want to walk away from her.

I didn't want to let her out of my sight.

Not ever.

But I had to catch Rhonda if we were ever going to have a normal life.

I gave her one last look and mouthed _I love you_ before I turned and got into the car.

I don't know when I'd become such a softie. She was fine. She was tougher than I was. Why was I being such a girl about leaving her?

But then I started the engine and looked up through the windshield to find her still watching me.

And the look on her face…_that was why_.

Because she wasn't whole yet. She wasn't back to being herself. She was still vulnerable, and I wanted to be with her to protect her.

But then she flashed me a smile and I caught a glimpse of the old Carolyn.

_She's getting there_, I told myself.

And Liz would watch out for her.

In the mean time, I had a psychopath to catch.

TBC...


	19. Chapter 19

**Bobby POV**

* * *

We talked to Ross and put a hold on the bug sweep of Logan's house. We didn't want Rhonda to know that we knew. And considering she'd bought six of them and we'd only found one, it was a pretty safe bet that there were more in the house.

So Logan was headed home to do his version of a grief-stricken and yet ready-to-find-new-love man.

I didn't envy him that.

He was playing up to the very woman who had ordered his wife dead. The only reason why Carolyn _wasn't_ dead was because an equally crazy man had different plans for her.

That, and the fact that Carolyn had managed to completely kick the ass of a man twice her size while she was chained to the floor.

She wasn't ready to hear how incredible I found that feat, but when she was, I would be sure to tell her. She and Alex were cut from the same cloth.

So while Logan went to his house to put on the performance of his life, Alex and I parked near Steve-O's and went into the bar.

It was only a little after noon on a Monday, but there were still patrons sitting on the stools. We sat at a table near a window in an effort to recreate the view from one of the photos.

I felt sure that I could get a bead on the line of sight.

"What can I get you?" the waitress asked brusquely.

"Two Cokes," Alex told her. "And a minute of your time. I need you to take a look at this picture."

She set out an 8x10 of Rhonda and the waitress glanced at it.

"Yeah, I've seen her. So what?"

"When?" Alex asked firmly, ignoring the girl's rudeness. "Saturday night?"

"Early Saturday," the waitress replied with a shrug. "I got off at six. It was before then."

"Okay. Just then? Or is she a regular?"

"She's a fairly new regular. She was in a few nights during the week. Monday, Tuesday maybe. Then not again until Saturday."

"What about this guy?"

I was engrossed with my visual scouring of the building across the street, but I knew that Alex was showing a photo of Adam Taggart.

"Oh yeah. He's the maintenance guy."

"Maintenance guy?"

"We were having an issue with the alarm on the fire exit. He came out Saturday morning to take a look at it."

I caught Alex's eye across the table as the waitress left us alone.

"That explains the trace of insulation. He went into the doorframe and cut the wires. I wonder who reported it as being broken."

"And how did he explain why he hadn't fixed it?" I added because obviously it still wasn't working Saturday night.

"I'm going to see if I can get some information out of the bartender," Alex told me as she stood up from the table.

I had a good idea of how she planned to get the information. She was going to sweet-talk him.

At one time, that kind of thing had bothered me somewhat, but considering that now I could not only get her to sweet-talk but also dirty-talk to me anytime I wanted, well…let's just say it almost made it amusing to see how easily she could play other men.

And she wasn't the type to do it for personal reasons, even before we were together, but if it would help a case, she always brought her A-game.

So while she went to finesse the details from the ogling bartender, I pondered this scenario.

I could see the building that was across the street and to the right. The window at which I was sitting was in one of the photographs that was taken of Mike, so I was reasonably close to the same position that he'd been in, only inside instead of outside.

I looked again at the picture on my phone of the photo in question.

We hadn't taken anything from Renee Yoder's home because even though I'd busted the front window, we were hoping that maybe she wouldn't know that we'd been there.

Instead, I'd dropped a rock inside the broken window in an effort to make it look like vandalism.

She may or may not buy it but it was worth a shot.

Hopefully, she would think that if real cops had come in, they would've seized evidence.

We'd left everything undisturbed. Instead of removing items, we'd documented and photographed everything.

I looked across the street again.

Did she sit up there somewhere and wait for him to pass on his way home from work? Or did she wait near his office?

Because somehow she knew when he was going to be home.

She couldn't really be watching him _all_ of the time.

Sure, she might be recording the goings-on in his house, but she'd been on top of it Saturday night. She'd been listening and had responded accordingly.

Was that just because she'd _expected_ him to go home?

Or had she been watching as we scoured the area around Steve-O's?

She had a place nearby. I was almost positive.

I looked up as Alex slid into the seat across from me.

"The alarm went off repeatedly at random times Monday and Tuesday nights," she said with a smile. "The same nights the waitress said that Rhonda was here. Tuesday night, she gave the manager a card, said she knew a guy who could fix it."

"And we have the name of…"

"Andrew LaFrance, along with Taggart's first drop cell number."

That was the last victim, the old guy in the closet. It was his home where Taggart had been keeping Carolyn.

"So they called him in to fix the door. And he didn't fix it."

"He told them he needed to order a part, and that he'd be back on Tuesday."

"Yeah, I don't think so," I replied with a smirk.

"So that was the set-up. They fixed the alarm, they knew this was a hang-out, and then she called Taggart Saturday evening to let him know to come."

"Mike and Carolyn probably discussed it at home, where they were going to go for dinner."

"I wonder what else they talked about," she mused sympathetically. "I can't imagine how I would feel if I knew that someone was listening to everything we'd said in the past few weeks."

I nodded thoughtfully and continued watching through the window.

Was she over there now?

Had she been waiting for Mike to go home?

"Let's go knock on some doors."

"She knows us. You think she's just going to open the door?"

"No. But if she sees us, it'll at least let her know that we're closing in."

"For the purpose of what?"

"Speeding up her timeline. She has a plan for Mike, and it isn't to kill him. She has a use for him, and she needs him to be under her spell. If she hears him talking, saying the things she wants to hear, and then she finds out we're looking through the building where she's hiding out, well…maybe she'll get the show on the road."

"And the sooner she does that, the sooner we catch her."

"Right."

"Then let's go knock on doors."

**

* * *

**

Rodgers POV

I didn't ask Carolyn how she was doing. I decided that she'd probably heard that question quite a bit lately, and I figured that she'd already formulated a programmed response.

I also wasn't big on shows of affection, and neither was she, so even though my impulse was to hug her, I didn't.

Instead, when she came into my autopsy suite, I gestured toward my desk.

"Use what you need," I said casually. "Make yourself at home."

I tried not to stare at her, but it was so good to see her walking around. A real, live person as opposed to a corpse on my table.

"Thanks," she replied quietly. "I'll try to stay out of your way."

"It's not often I get company down here. I'll appreciate any conversation you want to throw my way," I countered. "Oh, and I have something of yours."

I reached for my purse and got out her wedding rings. I never did have a chance to see Logan after I'd removed them from the victim last night.

I crossed the room and held them out to her.

"I…um…washed them," I told her hesitantly. She looked at them for a moment where they rested in the palm of my hand, but then she picked them up and put them on her finger.

"Funny how quickly I got used to wearing them," she said on a self-conscious chuckle. "Especially considering I thought I never would. I mean, I never thought I'd be married."

"It does sneak up on you sometimes, doesn't it?"

"What's that?"

"Love. The urge to make a commitment. Trust me. I made it three times."

"To love someone until death do you part?" she asked, and I was glad to see she was smiling. I'd been hoping to loosen her up. I knew she had a sharp wit, so I'd tossed her the slow pitch to see what she'd do.

"Something like that," I replied with a grin. "Although I'm not sure it counts since two times were to the same man. I think I can say I only promised twice."

She held my gaze for a minute and then turned to my computer.

"I'm going to check my email, if you don't mind. Alex was going to send me a list of names that I need to research."

"Sure," I said with a wave. "I'm going to sit over here and do some paperwork."

We worked in silence for nearly an hour before I realized that she was looking at me.

"Why did you marry Marcus the second time?" she asked me.

I felt the rush of pride in myself for having laid the groundwork down perfectly. Hers was a curious mind, and I'd had a good feeling that she'd come back to that.

"Because I still loved him," I answered simply.

She nodded thoughtfully and then went back to work.

"I'm going to use the printer, okay?" she asked.

"Have at it."

I turned to see her reaching for the stack of paper, and that was when I saw her wrists from underneath the cuffs of the sweater.

"You've got tape burn," I stated. "You should put something on it."

"It's fine," she deflected.

I ignored her and went to the cabinet for some antibiotic ointment.

"You don't have to wrap it. Just rub this into it a few times a day. It'll help."

She took the tube from my hand and then started reading out loud from the computer screen while something else was coming out on the printer.

"What do you think of this," she began. "Rhonda had bank statements pulled on men who she deemed as potential targets. She pulled them all at the same time as those of Walter Raleigh. She must have decided that he was the best choice. But before she killed Raleigh, she pulled another statement on John Strathmore."

"So he was logically the next target," I deduced, glad to be included as opposed to relegated to my day job. I was starting to think I had a knack for this detective work.

"But she didn't hit him. She ended up killing Raleigh, and then a few months later, she moved onto someone else."

"Something she found disqualified him?" I suggested.

"He's still in the file," she countered.

"She found someone with more money?"

"It looks like…" she began and then she started flipping through some of the sheets that were coming out of the printer. "That he's actually the wealthiest of them all."

"So he's the ultimate prize. Maybe she's perfecting her scam, planning to come back to him when she's sure she'll succeed."

"Maybe," she replied thoughtfully. "And this guy…this John Strathmore guy…he's young. Well, not _young_, but younger than the others."

"So maybe he _is_ the grand finale. Maybe she figured she could settle down with him after bilking millions from other unsuspecting men."

"I need to use this table," she told me, standing up with her printouts and walking across the room. "I need to amass a file on each of these guys so that we can find out what attracted her to them. We know Raleigh had no family, or none that were close anyway. Is that a prerequisite? Lonely millionaires who had no one to look out for their best interests?"

She seemed to be mostly talking to herself now, so I let her have at it. She kept up a steady stream of self-directed Q & A while I went back to work.

After about thirty minutes, I was making good headway through my reports when I realized that she was no longer mumbling. I looked up to find her looking at me.

"If you were still in love with Marcus, then why did you get divorced? I mean, if you don't mind me asking."

"I don't mind," I assured her.

But then I wasn't exactly sure where to start. This was what I'd directed the conversation toward, but I hadn't realized that it would be hard for me to say the words.

I hadn't talked about it in a long time.

But since it might help Carolyn, I jumped in with both feet.

"I was working the graveyard shift at the hospital. It was about two o'clock in the morning when I finally got to take a break, so I went outside into the courtyard to get some fresh air. A man grabbed me from behind. He held a knife against my throat and he shoved me down onto the ground."

"Liz, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have…"

"It's fine," I insisted.

I shoved my hair back from my face and looked her in the eye while I finished my story.

"He told me that he would kill me if I made a sound. And then he pulled his pants down, but when he tried to get my scrub pants off, he realized that I'd tied a knot in the string. He got frustrated, and then he moved the knife from my throat, I guess thinking that he would cut them off of me, but when he did, I elbowed him in the nose and started screaming my head off."

"So you got away?"

"I…got away, yes. I crawled away from him, and before he could come at me again, hospital security showed up."

"They caught him?"

"It's kind of hard to run with your pants around your ankles," I replied with a sardonic smile.

"What happened to him?"

"He…um…was charged with aggravated sexual assault. And when they processed him, they were able to link him to three other unsolved rapes in the area. And one murder."

"Liz…"

"Anyway, I had some trouble dealing with it. It was a terrible feeling, to be completely at someone else's mercy. I always considered myself a strong woman, so feeling helpless was not exactly in my repertoire. I wouldn't talk to Marcus, wouldn't talk to anyone. It drove a wedge between us, and eventually, we split up."

"But you still loved him."

"I did, yes," I replied with a nod.

I was filled with a bittersweet sadness when thinking about Marcus. I'd loved him for a long time, and his death had been a blow. Even though by that time I'd been happily married to Danny, it didn't take away the years that we'd shared together.

"So I got some help," I continued. "I found someone that I could talk to about what had happened. And then after awhile, Marcus and I started talking again and well…we decided to try the marriage thing again."

"But it didn't last."

"No, but that had more to do with a certain blonde chiropractic assistant rather than anything to do with the attack."

Carolyn was thoughtful for a minute, and I hoped that she was relating to what I'd said. How could she not? She was a smart woman.

"Mike asked you to tell me that, didn't he?"

She was a _very_ smart woman.

"No," I answered. "Actually, he doesn't know about it. I offered to talk to you because I want to help. I know firsthand how difficult it can be to open up after something like that and I wanted you to know that I'm here for you. If you want to talk."

She nodded, but then turned back to the computer.

"Oh my God," she said quietly. "Liz, look at this."

I crossed the room quickly and looked over her shoulder.

"Who is that?" I asked her when I saw the photo of a man on the screen.

"It's John Strathmore."

TBC...


	20. Chapter 20

**Ross POV**

* * *

I spent Monday in my office, and a large portion of my time was dedicated to damage control.

The commissioner wanted to know why I'd taken the murder case from the 6-9.

Then he wanted to know why my department had a kidnapping case that wasn't even really a case until after the victim had been found.

_Then_ he wanted to know why I was getting cell phone records pulled and why I had my detectives working on said non-case.

Apparently, he was keeping a closer eye on my department than I'd realized.

He knew that I'd back-dated the report for the benefit of the Trenton PD.

And while he didn't call me out on it in front of them, he did want an explanation.

"Danny, you can't use the department as your personal arsenal."

"I don't believe that I do."

"You had one of your detectives driving to Trenton to look at security footage!" he argued. "For a case _not_ assigned to the MCS! Hell, it wasn't even a case at all."

"I had reason to believe that it would be a case," I assured him. "I assumed that you would trust my judgment and allow me to make these types of decisions."

"You wanted to help your friend find his wife," he accused, and he said that like it was a bad thing.

"It ties in to an active case!" I argued.

"Barely. If you squint hard and tilt your head sideways. The kidnapping was never reported."

"It was only a matter of time before I got Logan to make an official report. I was simply getting a jump on the investigation. Besides, Detective Bernard is in my department on a trial basis. What better way to try him out than to let him work on a case that won't be getting press since _it wasn't an official case_?"

"Write it up," he ordered. "The whole damn thing from beginning to end. I want it on my desk this afternoon."

"Yes sir."

I hung up with the commissioner and let out a relieved sigh.

It could've gone much worse.

I would write up a creative version of the report, and hopefully put this all behind me.

Carolyn was safe. Adam Taggart was dead.

Now all we had to do was find Renee Yoder-slash-Rhonda Hagen-slash-Addison Hooper-slash-Shannon Logan.

This woman had more names than Carver had ugly ties.

But I had faith in my former detectives. They'd find her.

_We'd_ find her.

I checked in with Goren mid-afternoon, and found that he and Alex were knocking on doors in a building across the street from Steve-O's.

Apparently they had a theory as to her whereabouts and were trying to spur her into action.

Then I sent Logan a text since I knew he was at his home and the walls had ears.

_**Doing okay?**_

He replied.

_**Peachy. Got a text from Rhonda five minutes ago: "I'm sorry for your loss. You were too good for her anyway."**_

Me:_** Did you reply to her?**_

Him:_** Not yet. I'm getting ready to forward it to the Gorens. Have you heard from Carolyn? She doesn't have a phone.**_

I told him that I would check in with Liz and see how Carolyn was doing and then send him a text.

I could only imagine that he was climbing the walls at his house.

He couldn't talk on the phone unless it was a calculated conversation.

He couldn't use his computer because we weren't sure if she'd managed to implement a trace program of some sort.

He could leave the house as long as he used evasive measures, but the point for him being at home now was so that he could drop hints as to his miraculous recovery from the death of Carolyn.

So I called down to the morgue and talked to Liz.

"How's everything?"

"I think maybe you should come down here," she replied.

"Why? Is something wrong?" I asked, immediately on the alert.

I stood up and grabbed my coat and headed for the door. My report for the commissioner was still on my desk, but it could wait.

"Slow down, Danny. I didn't mean to scare you. It's just that Carolyn found something interesting."

"Something like…"

"She's researching Rhonda's potential targets. There may be a bigger link than we anticipated."

"But she's okay. Is she talking?"

"Yeah. Some. But yeah."

"Logan's worried. She doesn't have a cell phone, and he can't call. I'm going to swing by and grab a disposable one for her to use until she can replace the other one. I'll be there in thirty minutes."

I hung up with her and shot Logan a text as I locked up my office.

_**Carolyn is fine. May have found a connection of some sort. I'm going to the morgue. I'll keep you posted.**_

"Captain."

I looked up to find Bernard approaching me.

"How'd it go in Trenton?" I asked him.

"I just wanted you to know that I didn't say anything to the commissioner."

"I didn't suspect that you had."

"I heard he came down on you a little hard. I didn't want you to think…"

"Heard from whom?" I asked him.

I'd been on the phone with the commissioner, and my office door had been closed. No one should have been privy to that conversation.

"Harker," he replied with a shrug. "I guess he saw the commissioner…"

"It was a phone call," I told him.

Bernard looked at me in confusion and tilted his head.

"Something's fishy with that guy. I'll get to the bottom of it," he assured me.

"I appreciate that. Let me know."

"Yes sir. And Trenton was fine, sir. They've agreed to keep an eye on the house in White Horse and they've suspended their issuance of a warrant against Renee Yoder for the murder of Andrew LaFrance."

"For how long?"

"I talked them into waiting a week."

"Nice work, Detective. Get back to me on the Harker thing, will you?"

"Yes sir."

I thought about Harker again as I went down to the parking garage. I trusted Bernard to get to the bottom of it, but it was still bugging me.

How would he have known about what the commissioner had said?

And how _did_ the commissioner know so much about what had been going on?

Was it possible that Harker was a mole? For the purpose of what?

I had to let that go for now. Too much was happening with the case for me to get side-tracked by an ass-kissing do-gooder.

I picked up a prepaid cell and then made my way to the morgue. My phone rang just as I got out of the car.

"Are you still at 1PP?" It was Goren.

"No, I'm headed into the morgue. What's up?"

"We need to trace the ownership of a few of the offices in this building. There's conflicting evidence as to whether or not they're currently owned or being leased."

"I can't do it from here. Call Bernard. He'll take care of it for you."

"Are you sure?"

"It's fine. It's above board. You're tracking Rhonda Hagen, right?"

"Yes sir."

"Just make sure it's Bernard and not Harker, okay?"

"Why not Harker?" he asked carefully.

"The jury's still out on him. I'll let you know."

"Got it, Captain. You heard about Rhonda's text?"

"Yeah. Did he reply yet?"

"Uh huh. He said, '_I think maybe you're right. I found out she was cheating on me._'"

"That's good. That will make it even more plausible that he'd be ready to get back out there."

"That's the plan anyway. I'm going to call Bernard and get him on this building thing. What's going on at the morgue?"

"I don't know yet. I talked to Liz on the phone earlier and she asked me to come by to look at something."

"Okay. I booked Mike a room at the Roosevelt for tonight under an alias. I'll tell him to go ahead and leave his house now. He can drive around for awhile and then come to pick up Carolyn. We'll finish up here within the hour and then come to the morgue, too. We can just have our debriefing there."

"That works. I'll see you in an hour."

**

* * *

**

Alex POV

There is nothing fun about knocking on doors.

And even though we were pretty sure that the pictures of Mike were taken from the second or third floor, we still knocked on _all_ of the doors.

Because if Rhonda had reason to be in the building, then it wouldn't be too hard to manage a vantage point from another floor. She could simply step out of the stairwell and take a picture from one of the windows in the hallways.

So after several long hours of knocking and plastering on a fake smile and making up false reasons for disturbing the residents and business owners, I was done.

I was more than done.

My feet hurt and I was on day two of the same clothes and I'd only gotten about four hours of sleep last night and…well, I was just done.

But we did make progress.

There were twelve offices or apartments unaccounted for.

And I say offices _or_ apartments because for some reason, the building was an odd mixture of both. I don't know which group of people were violating the building code, but it was split up about fifty-fifty, so I guess the law-breakers felt safe.

And I couldn't care less.

I just wanted to know who owned or leased the units who didn't respond.

Because five of those were on the second or third floors.

And three of those would have windows facing Steve-O's.

I stood in the lobby of the building and wished I were wearing pumps instead of boots so that I could slip my feet out one at a time.

While I pondered my footwear, Bobby called Ross.

"Liz and Carolyn found something," he told me when he hung up. "Ross is headed over there now. Send Mike a text and tell him to take a tour through the city and then meet us there. I'm going to call Bernard. Ross said he'd take care of us."

"It's nice to see him trusting so quickly," I remarked as I pulled out my phone. "It only took…what, four years for him to trust us?"

"Me," Bobby countered with a smile. "It only took about four minutes for him to trust you."

I smiled back at him and then opened my phone. I had three missed calls, two voice mails, and four text messages – all from Cathy. I'd had it on silent for the past few hours.

I ignored the voice mails for the time being, but I quickly scrolled through the texts.

_**I'm sorry I had to miss dinner Saturday. We need to talk.**_

_**Call me. We really need to talk.**_

_**Alex – please don't ignore me. This is important.**_

_**I've left Steve and Nathan. I'm moving in with my friend. Call me.**_

I sighed heavily and replied to the final message. I knew she'd worded it intentionally for its shock value, hoping to get a reaction out of me.

Well, she did.

_**Don't make any rash decisions. I'm working, but I promise to call tonight. **_

And then I set up a reminder for myself so that I wouldn't forget.

It was hard for me to deal with her drama sometimes, especially when it was self-inflicted. There was enough trouble and heartache in the world without her creating more.

But still…she was my sister. I needed to call.

I pushed her out of my mind for the time being and sent a text to Mike.

_**Come to the morgue via the longest route possible. One hour. Pack a bag for both of you. **_

I hit send and put my phone away and then listened while Bobby went through the information with Bernard.

It took a little while because apparently there were a lot of companies owned by other companies who rented out space and then sub-leased more space. It sounded like a veritable paper trail nightmare.

Eventually, Bobby gave up on getting the information immediately and agreed to a call back.

"Bernard's working on it," he told me. "You ready?"

I nodded wearily and led the way back to the SUV.

"I'm ready for getting out of these clothes," I told him as we climbed in the truck. "And a hot shower. And our own bed."

"And a massage?" he offered. "I'm sure your feet are tired."

"Don't tease me," I told him. I started up the engine and pulled out into traffic.

"I'm not teasing," he replied, settling his hand high on my thigh. "Why don't you take a bath instead of a shower? Then I can rub your feet while you soak. What do you think?"

_What did I think_?

I thought I was a complete idiot for wasting so many years in silent longing.

"If you think I'm going to turn you down, you've lost your mind," I replied. His hand was distracting as it made small circles along the top of my leg.

"But how would I ever repay you?" I added innocently. His hand tightened on my leg and he reached across the front seat to whisper into my ear.

"I'm sure we'll think of something."

"What, do you have things that need massaging?"

I always loved trying to one-up him in the innuendo department. It wasn't an easy thing to do, but the game certainly did wonders for taking the stress out of the day.

He chuckled lightly, and his lips were still next to my ear, so his breath against the sensitive skin sent shivers through me.

"Get back on your side of the car," I told him in an unconvincing voice. I loved what he was doing to me, but we weren't far from our destination.

"What if I don't want to?" he asked, and he rubbed his hand harder against me as he ran his tongue along the edge of my ear. "And yes, I have things that need…massaging."

"I believe you were massaged twice in the past twenty-four hours," I reminded him, although again, my voice sounded breathy and raw. He had me halfway to the promised land despite being fully clothed and five minutes away from the morgue.

"Third time's a charm."

I very nearly ran a red light, but I slammed on the brakes at the last second. Several cars blew their horns at us, and Bobby finally sat back in his seat with a satisfied grin on his face.

"You love doing that to me, don't you?" I accused without any heat.

"I love that I _can_ do that to you," he replied.

His simple honesty sent another rush of arousal through me because he had a way with words that rivaled his gift as a lover.

"Me, too," I told him.

And then I found a place to park near the morgue, and we were back to business.

I climbed out of the truck and was grateful for the brisk air that served to cool my heated skin. It helped get my libido back to normal by the time we entered the building.

We went to Liz's autopsy suite and found that Mike had just arrived as well. He and Carolyn were behind closed doors in Liz's office.

"What going on?" I asked as we crossed the room.

"We'll let them tell you," Liz answered.

"Did Bernard find out what you needed to know?" Ross asked.

"He's working on it. He said he'd get back with me. What's the deal with Harker?"

"The commissioner has his eyes and ears, I guess. I thought with this guy coming from D.C. that he'd be free of New York political ties, but I guess not. Bernard said he'd sniff him out."

"You didn't think you'd replace _both_ of us so easily, did you?" I asked him with a smile.

"I didn't think that for a second," he admitted seriously. He seemed to consider saying something more, but then he changed topic. "So you think Rhonda's got space in that building?"

"My money says one of those units is leased to one of the names in those files."

"I can bet which one," Liz said as Mike and Carolyn came out of the office.

"Why do you say that?" I asked. "What did you find out?"

"Well, she's figured out part of the reason why Rhonda's after me," Logan said by way of greeting.

He looked like hell, and I couldn't decide if it was more from the past forty-eight hours or from whatever news he was getting ready to share.

"What is it?"

He held up a photo, and I sucked in a breath at the stunning similarities to the man standing in front of me.

"Meet John Strathmore. My half-brother."

TBC...


	21. Chapter 21

**Logan POV**

* * *

This day seemed like a huge waste. For me, anyway.

Everyone else was tracking Rhonda.

I was sitting around like window dressing.

I'd parked a block away and made a slow stroll to the house, keeping my head down and my ears open. It really bugged me that I didn't know whether or not she was watching. That meant that I had to assume that she was.

I went inside and was struck by the silence. I'd moved into this place with Carolyn. I hated being here alone. Although at least I knew she was safe, which was more than I'd known the last time I'd been home.

I forced myself to move past the awkwardness and I went about making a few fake phone calls.

It was depressing as hell.

I talked about a memorial service for Carolyn.

Then I talked about how soon I should pack up her belongings. I, of course, wanted to wait but my imaginary antagonist insisted that it would be better if I got the task out of the way quickly, like removing a band-aid.

That conversation opened up the door for my response to Rhonda's text, which indicated that I'd found some reason to believe Carolyn had been cheating on me.

I swear, I deserved a damn Oscar for this performance.

But I toughed it out and got through the day.

A little while after Ross checked in with me, he sent me another message with a phone number, letting me know that he'd gotten Carolyn a new phone. I guess he wanted me to know that it wasn't Rhonda pretending to be her.

I thanked him and then sent her a text.

_**Are you okay?**_

_**Yes. But I've got some news. Can you go outside so that we can talk?**_

_**I can't risk it. Tell me.**_

Before she could reply, I got a text from Alex telling me to go to the morgue, so I sent another one to Carolyn.

_**I'm on my way there, but it'll take awhile. Tell me.**_

_**I think I found the connection to your mother. I need to confirm it. I'll tell you when you get here.**_

I could understand that she didn't want to tell me potentially upsetting news in a text message.

But now I had to drive a circuitous route through the city to keep from having a tail when all I really wanted to do was race there with lights flashing and siren wailing.

Patience wasn't my strong suit.

But I did it. I worked my way to the morgue in a fashion sure to lose anyone attempting to follow me. And while I did so, I tossed about possibilities.

By the time I got to the morgue, I had a feeling that I knew what was coming.

Neither Ross nor Liz said anything more than hello to me as I crossed the room and joined Carolyn in Liz's office. She closed the door behind me.

Despite my apprehension about her news, I was happy to see her.

And I'd waited this long. I could wait another minute.

I grabbed her into a tight hug and buried my face in her hair.

I couldn't wait to get her out of here.

I wanted to take her to the hotel and just _be_ with her.

But first things first. I stepped back from her, but kept a hold of her hand.

"Just say it," I encouraged. And I knew that she would.

"One of Rhonda's targets is a casino owner in Atlantic City," she began slowly, but then she picked up momentum. "His mother was Shannon McMahon. He's your half brother."

Guessing that it was coming, and then hearing the words were two different things and the reality was like a punch in the gut.

Most of my life I'd been essentially alone. Until this past year, I'd never felt a familial connection to anyone. But now she was telling me that I had a brother.

_I already have a brother_, I reminded myself.

Goren was my brother. Not some millionaire from Jersey whom I'd never met.

"Show me," I replied firmly. I was struggling to stay calm because the last thing Carolyn needed was to have to deal with me in the midst of a meltdown.

But it was tough and I wasn't sure if I was strong enough to hold it inside.

She let go of my hand and picked up a picture from inside of a file. I took it from her, but I kept my eyes on hers until the last second. I didn't really want to look at it, but I had to.

And when I did, I was blown away by the similarities.

It was _me_ in a few years. Well, not exactly. But sure as hell close enough.

Even without any documentation to back it up, I would believe it. And I knew Carolyn could back it up.

"Your mom was married before she married your father," she told me.

"Yeah, I know. James Malloy. And she never divorced him."

She nodded at me and then picked up a print out.

"The birth record for John Strathmore lists Shannon McMahon and Henry Strathmore. I couldn't find anything on him yet. I ran across several of them, but none seemed to fit the demographic. And Strathmore's date of birth occurred four months after her marriage to James Malloy."

"So she was pregnant when he married her."

"Yes, although why she didn't just list Malloy as the father, I have no idea."

"Money."

"What?"

"She probably wanted to get child support from this Henry Strathmore. She was marrying Malloy so she was already going to get everything he had."

It didn't surprise me to learn anything unsavory about my mother. The only thing I couldn't figure out was how she'd ended up with my dad, especially so soon after all of this. And why it had been so important to her to keep her past a secret.

"I'll do some more digging and see if I can find him," she told me. "Mike, are you okay?"

"This explains a lot, doesn't it?" I replied bitterly. "Rhonda found the connection already. She wanted to use me to help her get to his money."

"Mike…"

"I'm fine," I snapped out. And then I stopped and took a deep breath.

"I'm fine," I said again, this time keeping my tone even. "It doesn't change anything. I don't know him. I don't want to know him. The only thing this does is tell us more about Rhonda's motive. It'll help us catch her."

With the picture in hand, I opened up the door to the office.

"Why do you say that?" Alex was saying to Liz. "What did you find out?"

"Well, she's figured out part of the reason why Rhonda's after me," I stated.

"What is it?"

I held up the photo for the Gorens to look at.

"Meet John Strathmore. My half-brother."

I only halfway listened as conversation erupted about this latest development. I sat down at the table and flipped open the file that Carolyn had put together on Strathmore.

He was a little more than four years older than me and was born and raised in Long Island by his step-father James Malloy.

While he was attending Princeton, I was the flavor of the week for my priest.

He'd graduated near the top of his class. I'd almost flunked out of Catholic school, mostly due to truancy.

He'd gone on to Yale to get his MBA.

I'd moved out of my mother's house to escape her because she'd suddenly decided that I was too big to be beaten and so she'd pulled a gun on me instead.

And I hadn't left because I was afraid that she would shoot me. I'd left because I was afraid that I'd take it from her and kill her.

I shook off that vivid memory of her pointing a shotgun at my chest. It was in the past and I wasn't going to walk down that path again.

Instead, I flipped through another sheet and found the bank records.

According to what Carolyn had found, John had come into a large trust at the age of twenty-one, presumably something set up by his real father.

_Seventy million dollars_.

I read over that number eight times while my mind flashed onto what I'd been doing at that age. I was working my ass off to pay for my four years at CUNY, and even then, I'd been in debt with student loans for the next ten years.

This information just confirmed my initial reaction. He and I were nothing alike and I had no interest whatsoever in laying eyes on the man.

"I think we need to call it a day," Goren said loudly, pulling me from my thoughts. "We need to get some rest and start fresh on this tomorrow."

I looked up at him and found him watching me with worried eyes. Great, now he was concerned about me.

"Sounds like a good idea to me," Ross said. "It's been a long couple of days. We'll regroup in the morning. My office."

"It'll be like old times," Alex remarked wryly.

I didn't want old times. I wanted three days ago.

I had finally grown comfortable with Mike Logan. And yet somehow my mother had managed to come back from the grave to kick me in the teeth.

With a little help from Rhonda, of course.

I couldn't forget about her. And I wouldn't.

Because I absolutely could not wait to take that woman down.

Forty-five minutes later, I sat next to Goren at the bar in the Roosevelt.

Alex and Carolyn were still in the booth where we'd sat when we first came in, but then Goren had suggested that he and I go to the bar to order another round of drinks.

And I knew what that meant.

That was code for _we need to talk_.

Well, he could talk all he wanted to, but I didn't have anything to say.

And maybe I was spending too much time feeling sorry for myself, but I think I deserved a little pity party.

_Didn't I_? _With the that day I'd had_?

I'd spent the first half fake-mourning my pretend-dead wife. Less than a day after I'd thought she might be dead for real.

And then I'd found out that I had a brother with money falling out of his ass while I'd grown up alone, scratching and clawing my way into adulthood.

"So let's hear it," Goren said after taking a drink of his Scotch.

"Hear what?" I retorted smartly.

"Whatever is running through your head right now. I know you don't want to say it in front of Carolyn. She's having enough trouble dealing with herself. So say it to me."

I glanced past Bobby over to where the girls sat in the booth, and saw that they were engrossed in conversation. Maybe Alex had gotten her talking about the kidnapping.

I felt a wave of relief, immediately followed by shame. I'd practically ignored her since she gave me the news. As though it were her fault.

I wasn't doing it intentionally, but…like I said. I'd been busy feeling sorry for myself.

"They're fine," Goren remarked when he noticed the direction of my stare.

I sighed and picked up my drink, stalling my reply by sipping on the bourbon.

I was at once annoyed and grateful that Goren knew me so well. He was going to poke at me until I talked. And he wouldn't put up with any psycho-babble bullshit. He wanted gut feelings, but that was a hard thing for me to put into words.

"I had a crappy childhood. That's no secret," I said at last. "And to find out that my mother had another son…one who seems to have lived a storybook life…well, that's a little hard to swallow."

"But he didn't have a mother."

"He didn't have a drunk, abusive mother?" I retorted, barking out a derisive laugh. "No. No, you're right about that."

"Which part is it that bothers you? That she never told you about him? Or that he seems to have had a better life? Because from where I'm sitting, you've got a pretty good life going on right now."

I thought about that for a minute. Three or four minutes actually.

Was that what irked me so much? That he was rich? That would be pretty shallow. And honestly, even though I liked having money to pay the bills, I'd never worried too much about having more than that. No, I didn't think that was it.

So then it was because my mother had kept him a secret. But why did I care about that? She'd apparently had a lot of secrets. And it wasn't like she and I had a close relationship anyway.

"I'm not sure," I admitted at last. But then I added, "I don't care that he has money."

"I didn't think that you did," he replied easily. "Did I ever tell you that my father left me a plot of land upstate?"

I looked at him quickly, unsure where he was going with the statement.

"No."

"I don't mean my dad," he clarified. "I mean my father, Mark Ford Brady."

I nodded slowly. We'd danced around this topic a few times, but we'd never jumped into the heart of it. I knew that he'd found out awhile back, before we were as close as we are now, so at the time I didn't feel right asking him about it.

"He left you land?"

"Quite a bit of it. I had the lawyer sell it and then give the money to charity. This was at a time when I wasn't earning a paycheck. But I didn't want one cent from that man."

I finished off my drink and realized that I had relaxed marginally. The conversation had shifted slightly so that I didn't feel like I was under a spotlight.

Goren's family had secrets. Lots of them, some of which were downright scandalous.

"It bothered me that I didn't find out until I was a grown man," he continued. "And for awhile, I wondered what would've changed if I'd known sooner."

"What did you come up with?"

"Nothing. I don't know what it would've changed. What do you think would've been different if you'd known about Strathmore sooner?"

Good question. Obviously my mother had no ties to him. She'd rarely left our home so she certainly wasn't humping out to Long Island to visit her other family.

"Um…I don't know. I guess maybe I wouldn't have felt so alone."

I hadn't realized that I was going to say the words until I actually heard them coming out of my mouth. And to my horror, my voice cracked on the final word.

_I am not going to cry about this, and especially not in front of Goren_.

I took several deep breaths in an effort to settle my over-active tear ducts.

"I can understand that," he replied, ignoring my show of emotion. "You went through a lot and you did it with the impression that no one else was going through what you were."

"Which," I began, understanding suddenly dawning on me. "Even had I known would have still been true because he wasn't dealing with any of those things either."

He nodded at me and caught my eye again after having given me the chance to regain my composure.

"All he shares with you is a little of your DNA," he told me. "And if you want to meet him, then by all means, check him out. I'll go with you if you want. But if you don't, I wouldn't give it a second thought. And if seeing him in person becomes a necessity to this case, then I'll handle it."

"I don't know why I'm letting this get to me," I admitted. "I've been acting like a jerk the past few hours."

"It's hard to stand in quick sand. Rhonda's been keeping the ground moving beneath your feet. She wanted you to find this. That's why she used your mother's name. She wanted to be in your head."

"And I've let her," I answered.

"Well, I think we've all had just about enough of Rhonda Hagen. It's time we turn the tables on her. You're going to tell her that you found out about Strathmore. And you're going to be pissed that he has all that money."

"Between that, and my hints today about being over Carolyn…"

Goren nodded firmly and held up his glass.

I clinked my tumbler against his, silently thanking whoever was listening for this brother, my _true_ brother. He was the one who understood what I'd been through and stood beside me no matter what. He was the one who mattered.

"She'll come out from under her rock," he concluded with a grin. I smiled at the thought, revenge scenarios running rampant through my brain.

"And that's when the real fun will begin."

TBC...


	22. Chapter 22

**Alex POV**

* * *

It wasn't as late as it felt when we finally arrived back home. It seemed like midnight, but my watch insisted that it was nine-thirty.

That was probably because we'd left the morgue five hours ago, and then sat for more than half of that time in the hotel bar.

But it was time well-spent.

Mike seemed better.

Carolyn seemed better.

And we had a solid plan for smoking out the very elusive Rhonda Hagen.

And yeah, even though I knew now that she was actually Renee Yoder, I had trouble calling her anything but Rhonda, even in my own head.

After leaving the bar, we'd gone by Steve and Cathy's house and found that she truly had packed a suitcase and left.

I spent some time talking with Steve while Bobby entertained Nathan and then we switched it up. The men chatted and while I got Nathan ready for bed.

He seemed comfortable with the fact that someone other than his mother was doing his bedtime routine and I had to wonder just how long things had been in this downward spiral.

"What did Steve have to say?" I asked Bobby as I sat down next to him on the couch.

He patted his lap and held his hands out for my feet, so I scooted a little further away from him and then stretched my legs out, resting my feet on his thighs.

He began taking off my boots, and I was reminded with a jolt of arousal about his earlier promise of massaging my feet while I took a bath.

Although sitting here on the couch was just fine, too because he certainly had a knack for making me feel good.

"Not much," he replied. "I think he's in denial."

"Yeah, that's what I got from him, too. He seems to think that it's just a phase and pretty soon she'll come back to him."

"I can understand that. He's hurting, and he doesn't want to believe that she doesn't love him any more."

"Do you think that's the case?" I wondered aloud. "That she fell out of love with him?"

"I don't know. You need to call her."

By this time, my boots were on the floor, as were my socks, and he was expertly kneading the bottoms of my feet. It was hard to be concerned about anything at the moment. I let my eyes fall closed as I focused on his touch.

"Alex," he said quietly. "You need to call her."

"I know."

He slid his hands under my pant legs, running them up my calves as far as he could reach and then he leaned over me and kissed me chastely.

"I'll go get your bath ready. You call Cathy," he said as he stood up. I couldn't help but moan over the loss of his hands on me. "Twenty minutes, okay? Fake a bad connection if you have to."

"Hey, I can be ready in fifteen minutes," I countered. "Ten, even."

He flashed me a grin and went down the hall to the bathroom. I sighed heavily and got out my cell phone to call Cathy.

And it's not that I don't love my sister because I do. She and I were fairly close growing up. Well, as close as sisters who had very little in common could be.

But still, when it came to outsiders, we stood as a unit, each one protecting the other when necessary. Although truth be told, it was usually me telling off some guy who had broken her heart.

But by this time, we'd been living outside of our parents' home for longer than we'd lived in it. She had chosen her path and I had chosen mine.

It was no secret that I had trouble accepting some of her decisions. I knew that I needed to let her do her own thing, but it was tough when it seemed to me that she was making a mistake.

As I dialed her number, I realized something.

I was so frustrated with my dad because he didn't trust me to make my own decisions, and yet I was judging Cathy for hers. I hadn't compared the two situations before, and I was suddenly able to see things from my dad's perspective a little bit.

I knew that he wanted what was best for me, just like I wanted it for Cathy.

What he and I were both forgetting is that you can't live someone else's life for them.

So I closed my eyes, still lying on the couch, and I let my sister talk.

She filled me in about the recent arguments with Steve and how this new Mr. Wonderful was being so supportive and attentive.

I bit my tongue and only slightly cringed when she went into a little too much detail about her new sex life. I thought it was wrong of her to jump into the bed with someone else while still trying to sort out her current situation, but it wasn't my place to say so.

When she finished bringing me up to speed, she finally asked me what I thought. And I could tell that she was holding her breath because ultimately she was still seeking my approval.

Again, I could relate.

So…tell her what she wanted to hear or what I really thought?

And then I had another crazy revelation.

She'd dated Steve in college and eventually married him. She'd essentially followed the same path as me and Joe. And now, after so many years with the same man, she was starting to wonder what it might be like with someone else. She was starting to be afraid that maybe there was more out there for her.

Would I have felt the same way if Joe had lived? How long would I have stayed married to him?

I opened my eyes and looked down the hall toward the bathroom to where I could hear the water filling the tub. I could see Bobby's face in my mind and I knew without a doubt that my marriage would've never survived Bobby. Even if Joe _had _been perfect, which he most definitely wasn't.

If we'd still been married when I met Bobby, I would've eventually left Joe for Bobby.

_But there wouldn't have been kids in the picture_, I reminded myself.

And that changed everything. You can't just quit on a marriage when you have kids, so even though I could relate and understand and appreciate all of the things she felt about Steve and the new guy, it didn't absolve her for walking out on her son.

So that's what I told her.

As gently as possible, I reminded her that she was supposed to be a mother first. That was the choice she'd made when she decided to have a child, when she'd asked me to have that child for her.

She'd committed to always putting the child's needs ahead of hers and right now, she had it backwards.

And that didn't necessarily mean that she had to stay with Steve until Nathan was grown. But it did mean that she needed to give it everything that she had to try to make it work.

And I think that maybe I got through to her just a little bit. She agreed to think about it. So I felt a little better when twenty-five minutes after making the call, I hung up the phone and went to find Bobby.

And once I found him, I felt a whole lot better.

The bathroom was fragrant and steamy, the tub was filled with hot bubbly water, and he was standing in front of the sink, in boxers and a black t-shirt, getting ready to shave.

"You're five minutes late," he told me with a smile.

"I think I did pretty good," I responded as I began shedding my clothes. That bath was calling my name and I couldn't wait to get into it.

"I think you did, too," he said as he turned to me. "Everything go okay?"

"I hope so," I replied.

I wrapped my arms around him and held him for a moment, my earlier thoughts making me suddenly sentimental.

_This is who I was meant to be with_, I thought happily. _No matter the path, this was my destination_.

"You okay?" he whispered into my hair.

"Yeah," I said as I pulled back from him. I turned around to get in the tub and he went back to the sink. "But you know, you could at least provide me with a breathtaking view while I soak in the tub."

I looked back over my shoulder and caught his gaze in the mirror.

"I don't know about breathtaking, but…" He quickly pulled off his t-shirt and dropped his boxers. "Is this what you had in mind?"

"Perfect," I agreed as I settled down into the tub.

Normally when I'm in the bath, I like to lay my head back and close my eyes, letting the stress of the day roll off of me.

But with Bobby standing four feet away from me, completely naked, there was no way in the world I was going to close my eyes.

Not when I had an excellent view of his well-sculpted behind. I could also see him through the mirror, and so I watched him as he absently went about preparing to shave. He dampened a towel with hot water and ran it over his face and then he must have felt my gaze.

"You're supposed to be relaxing," he told me as squirted some shaving cream into his hand and began rubbing the foam onto his face.

"I am," I replied. "You are so…beautiful. I wish I had a more masculine word for you, but it just fits. I could look at you all day."

"Were you drinking while you were talking to Cathy?" he teased. Bobby would never agree with my assessment of him. He still couldn't see how handsome he was, even though he no longer argued with me when I told him so. Or not much anyway.

"I'm trying to decide if I want you to shave that beard off just yet," I said thoughtfully.

"You'd better decide," he told me as he picked up the can again. But when he pushed the button, nothing came out, so he tossed it in the trash can and leaned down to get another can from out of the drawer.

While he was doing that, I quietly stood up and stepped out of the tub. I didn't care that I was dripping water and suds on the floor. It would dry.

Instead, I walked up behind him as he once again stood up straight, and I ran my hands along his back and then around to his chest. I pressed myself up against his back.

He put more shaving cream in his hand but then just held it there.

"So? Shave or no?" he asked me.

I looked around him and met his eyes in the mirror again, and then I shifted back slightly and encouraged him to turn around.

Once he was facing me, I couldn't keep my eyes from dropping and giving him the slow once over.

"You dropped some," I told him, my eyes pausing halfway through the journey.

I reached out and ran my hand along his length, wiping away the small bit of shaving cream.

He sucked in a breath and stood stock still, waiting to see what I would do next.

And there were all kinds of things that I wanted to do next, but first things first.

Mindless of the shaving cream covering his face, I put my hands on his cheeks and kissed him. I went up on my toes so that I could reach him better, but it still wasn't enough, and he knew it too.

He turned us around and then put his hands on my hips, picking me up and setting me on the counter without us ever breaking contact. The ceramic counter was cold against my skin and sent a shiver through me, but the feeling was nothing compared to what Bobby was stirring up in me.

I was instantly on fire from the inside out as he expertly ravaged my mouth with his.

When I finally pulled back, I was breathless and crazy with desire. I ran my hands down his chest, leaving a trail of shaving cream along the way. Of course, I had it all over me from where he'd had it in his hands, too.

"We're both a mess," I said huskily. "What are we going to do about that?"

I ran my hand over him again, enjoying the silky feel of him, and then I wrapped my legs around him and pulled him tighter up against me.

"You started it," he answered, and his voice told me just how close he was to losing it. He leaned into me, putting his hands on the mirror behind me and kissing me again. I tightened my thighs against him, and he pushed against me, oh so close to where I wanted him to be.

"What are you going to do about it?" he challenged when he pulled back fractionally. I followed him as he backed away from me. I wasn't done kissing him yet. I put my arms around his neck, and that was what he'd been waiting for. He quickly grabbed me up and took three steps to the shower.

Without letting me go, he reached in and turned on the water. We stood there for a moment, me with my back up against the wall and him with his mouth hungrily exploring along my neck and chest.

And then he set me on my feet and we got under the hot spray.

"I think you'd better get busy," he told me, his voice still low with desire.

He handed me the soap and I worked it in my hands for a moment, making them slick with suds, and then I set it down and started about the pleasurable task of making sure that every inch of him was clean.

And of course, I paid more attention to some inches than others.

"You need to stop," he said at last. "Or I won't be able to stop."

"You don't have to," I encouraged.

"You haven't had your turn yet."

I loved how I could get him so worked up and yet he still always thought of me first.

"Are you kidding me? This _is_ my turn," I assured him.

I picked up the pace, alternately using light and hard pressure, and his answering groan sent a jolt of pleasure through me. It was insane how excited I got just knowing that I could do this to him.

And I wasn't exaggerating when I said that _this was my turn_. I meant it. I loved being able to make him feel good and everything else was just secondary.

Although apparently he felt the same way because he suddenly turned the tables.

He grabbed my wrists and put them behind my back where he held them in one hand and then he began an assault on me that in no time had me begging for more.

And I've just quit saying that I don't beg.

I do, unequivocally.

The man can work me into such a frenzy that I lose sight of anything except the endzone.

Right now, I didn't care that the water was going cold or that I wasn't presently reciprocating in any manner. His control switch had been flipped and I was simply trying to keep up.

"We need to get out of here," he growled as the water went even colder. He reached behind me and turned it off and then scooped me up into his arms.

But we didn't go far.

He put me back on the counter and as soon as my butt hit the surface, he pushed inside of me with a sense of urgency. I put my hands behind me as leverage to keep me at the edge of the counter as he began a frenetic pace that had me calling out to God in a matter of minutes. Bobby was only seconds behind me, and was just as loud, which caused both of us to start laughing once our heart rates had slowed down.

"Our neighbors are going to ban together to get us evicted," I teased.

"Hey, we're buying this place. They can't evict us."

"Well, they can ostracize us anyway," I amended. I ran my hands over his hair as he rested his head against my chest. "Where did you find the energy for that?"

"You do things to me…" he began, as he intermittently kissed me and rubbed his stubbly cheek against my skin.

"I was thinking the same thing," I admitted.

"You didn't get your bath. Or your foot rub."

"This was better."

Several long minutes later, we finally managed to clean up our mess in the bathroom and get into the bed. It was still only ten-thirty, but we were both completely worn out.

"So, tomorrow Logan is going to try to set up a meeting with Rhonda?" I said as I settled against him.

"Yeah," he agreed. "But I've been thinking about that. We might have trouble getting the evidence of what we found in the house in White Horse admitted into court. We didn't have permission to enter that house. Essentially, we were trespassing. It certainly won't be a slam dunk."

"That's true. So what are you thinking?"

"What if we get Logan to meet with her and agree to help her get Strathmore's money?"

"So that we can catch her in the act," I stated.

"Right. There's a bench warrant for her arrest for her part in the murder of Raleigh, but as far as this other stuff goes…it might be tough to get a conviction."

"How do you think Mike's going to feel about that?"

"I think he wants to go at her with both barrels."

"It'll mean more time that Carolyn has to stay out of sight. And it'll mean that he'll really have to play up to Rhonda," I reminded him. "We'll have to trust him not to lose his cool."

Bobby put his fingers through mine and brought our joined hands up to his lips.

"I trust him," he said confidently. _Bobby trusted him_. I knew that he had for awhile now, but I loved hearing him say the words. "Logan can pull it off."

TBC...

**A/N: As much as I would love to claim credit, the scene in this chapter was not remotely my idea. It was all Mitzvahgirl. Thank you for regularly sharing your wonderful ideas :)**


	23. Chapter 23

**Logan POV**

* * *

Talking with Goren had helped me get my head on straight.

The news that I had a half brother was just a fact.

It wasn't a crisis.

It didn't change my life.

It just simply _was_.

And while I was curious as to why my mother had felt it necessary to keep her first family a secret, it ultimately wasn't going to alter my life one way or another.

I had my wife. I had my friends. I had a nice home and a good job.

Goren was right. My life was pretty damn good.

After Bobby and Alex left, we'd gone up to our room and went to bed early.

We'd stripped down, climbed into bed, and then just held each other. I knew that her talk with Alex had helped because she seemed a lot more relaxed.

And as the night wore on, she only had one dream that was bad enough to wake her up.

Unfortunately, I had one that woke both of us up.

I dreamed that when I fell to my knees on the sidewalk next to the body, that it actually was Carolyn.

It didn't take a psych degree to figure out why my brain had come up with that one, but knowing its cause didn't make it any less horrifying.

I felt the concrete beneath my knees and the coldness of her lifeless body as I held her close and cried.

And then, in my dream, someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned around, still wracked with grief, and found my mother staring at me.

"_I told you that you were worthless." _

"_But Mom, I…"_

"_You got that girl killed. It's your fault. You should've left her alone. But you didn't, and now she's dead, and it's all your fault…"_

And she kept repeating it over and over, until I couldn't take it anymore.

"_I know!" _I yelled._ "It's my fault!"_

"Mike, wake up."

Carolyn's calm voice and cool hand against my sweaty forehead pulled me from my dream.

I tightened my grip around her, grateful to be back in reality where she was very much alive.

"We make an interesting pair, don't we?" she murmured against my chest. "Do you want to talk about yours?"

"No," I said quickly. The image of my mother was fresh in my mind.

"None of this is your fault," she told me, letting me know that at least part of my dialogue had been spoken for real.

"Well, that's not entirely true, now is it?"

"Mike…just because you went home with someone that you met in a bar does not mean that you deserve to be stalked. You know that."

I sighed heavily and pulled her on top of me. I felt as though I just couldn't get her close enough.

"I know. I just keep thinking that if I'd turned her down that first night, we wouldn't be where we are right now."

"No, we wouldn't. But we'd be somewhere else, and who's to say it would be better? We've faced a lot of bad guys between us. Sometimes they stick around longer than we'd like, but we'll get them all in the end, right?"

"You're awfully optimistic," I teased, finally able to relax a little. "Now I'm suspicious."

"I just…when I talked with Alex…well, it helped. What she went through, and how Bobby felt responsible…hearing it from someone else helped to put it all in perspective."

As she talked, she ran her fingers through my hair, coaxing my pounding heart back to a normal rhythm. I felt only slightly guilty for seeking comfort from her at a time when I should be providing it instead.

"Catching Rhonda…it's not going to be easy. I'm going to have to be…convincing…about my…interest in her," I said carefully.

"I know what it'll entail," she assured me. "And I know that you love me and that you're only doing this because it's your job. More than your job, really. It's become integral to our life. So you'll do some acting. You'll pretend reciprocal interest. I'm a big girl."

"I know you are. I just know that it'll be a tough thing to witness. You're going to be in the background somewhere, watching or listening while I'm…"

"Doing what you have to do," she insisted. "I can handle it."

She leaned down and kissed me, slowly at first and then she started putting a little more into it.

"To an extent," she added when she pulled back. "If she pushes it too far, I won't be responsible for my actions."

"I vaguely recall saying that myself a time or two," I replied, finally able to smile and enjoy the moment. "Jack Quarles comes to mind."

"You didn't have to bring up that name," she said. She made a face but then she kissed me again. "And once we catch Rhonda, we won't bring up her name again either. None of her names, got it? "

"Absolutely," I promised.

We made it through the rest of the night without any nightmares.

And in the morning, I was able to shave and put on fresh clothes so that I felt more like myself.

And Carolyn showered with her own shampoo, and dressed in her own clothes, too, and I knew that had to help.

Since Saturday night, I'd been adrift. It wasn't that I couldn't go on without Carolyn by my side.

It was that I didn't want to.

And yesterday, even though I'd had her back, it had been surreal. We were working on hardly any sleep and the two of us were separated most of the time…we hadn't been able to get our groove back.

But this morning…this morning was different.

I strapped on my weapon, and as I did so, I caught her eye in the mirror. She was putting on hers as well, the extra one that I'd brought from home.

I felt a rush of adrenaline run through me, a quiet confidence that was empowering.

I had my partner back, my wife.

It made me feel indestructible.

Our respite was over. It was time to play ball.

**

* * *

**

Ross POV

We'd set the meeting for ten a.m. because I didn't want any of them having to get up early. This case wasn't going to be solved in a day, and this was as good a time as any to take a break.

Of course, that didn't mean that I got to take one. I got to the office at seven-thirty.

I made a mental note that Harker was working at his desk, but I wasn't in the mood for dealing with potential spies at the moment.

Instead, I slammed my door closed as a deterrent for anyone considering bugging me.

I'd left Liz in the bed this morning. She finally had a day off, so I'd tried to be quiet to let her sleep, but just before I slipped out of the bedroom, she'd opened her eyes.

"I'll be at your office in a couple of hours," she'd told me.

"It's your day off," I'd argued weakly. I'd known that she would want to come.

"Which means I can spend my time doing what I want," she'd said stubbornly. "I'll see you at ten."

She'd turned over in the bed, snuggling under the covers to get another hour or so of sleep, so I'd been unable to resist going back to her and running my hand over her head. I then bent down and kissed her cheek, and she'd smiled without opening her eyes.

"I love you," she'd said. I never got enough of hearing that.

Most people would assume that she wasn't the type to say so since she was so no-nonsense. But in reality, it just made her unafraid to speak the truth.

If she thought it, she said it.

And I guess lately, I'd been doing some things right.

I then leaned over and kissed her again before whispering my reply in her ear.

"Captain."

I'd been so deep in my own thoughts that I hadn't realized that someone had dared to open my door. But I looked up to find Bernard in my doorway, so I wasn't upset.

"Come in, Detective."

"I wanted to let you know that I had a chat with Harker," he began. I sighed and sat back in my chair, already running through the possibilities of who I could bring in to replace him. What would it take to steal Lupo from Counter-terrorism?

"And?"

"He claims that he was looking out for you. He didn't want you to get into trouble, so he was trying to keep the commissioner in the loop and…"

He paused at my incredulous look.

"…and it was a complete load of crap," he concluded. "He's bucking for a promotion into the brass. He figured that if you were writing your pink slip then maybe he'd better attach his wagon to another horse."

"So he wasn't spying on me so much as he's trying to get noticed," I clarified. Bernard nodded.

"I think that sums it up. I don't think he's a bad guy. I'm just not sure…"

He trailed off as though he wasn't sure if he should say what was on his mind.

"Finish your thought, Detective. I didn't ask you for the abridged version."

"I'm not sure if he's Major Case material. And I realize that might sound arrogant coming from me, considering I haven't been in this department but a week myself."

"No. I understand what you're saying."

"Whatever you decide to do with him, I think that if an opening comes available with another detective, I might like to change partners."

"You'd rather not work with him," I stated.

"It's tough to trust your partner when you're worried he's going to run to Daddy any time something is slightly off plumb."

"I hear you. Okay, thanks."

Bernard turned to leave the office, but then he stopped.

"Captain, is there something I can do with this Rhonda Hagen case today? I'm guessing you've got some kind of sting planned? I'd like to be in on it."

I could appreciate that. Bernard had spent a considerable amount of time over the past two days tracking down leads and being the front-man for the NYPD.

"We're meeting in here at ten," I told him with a nod. "Oh, and Bernard?"

"Yes, Captain."

"Detective Lupo. What do you think of him?"

"We usually had a difference of opinion, but I trust him with my life. He's a great partner."

"Would he be worth calling in a favor?"

"Absolutely. He'd be worth owing the favor."

Bernard left my office and I picked up the phone to call the commissioner.

I still owed him a report from my weekend's activities, and he was still likely a little steamed about my recent transgressions, but overall, the man still owed me.

If he'd gone through with Akers as the Chief of D's, it would've just been another ticking time bomb.

The way I saw it, I'd saved him at least a year's worth of headaches and lawsuits.

And I had every intention of subtly reminding him that while I asked for my favor.

Two hours later, my office was filled to the brim. The Gorens, the Logans, Liz and Bernard were all scattered about the room.

The good news was that everyone looked ten times better than they had yesterday. I didn't know what had occurred between then and now, but it had worked.

In fact, they all looked sharp and professional, like MCS detectives.

"I got another text this morning," Mike started off when the casual greetings were out of the way. "It said, '_You didn't go home last night. I was worried about you_.'."

"So she was definitely watching your place," Bernard said. I was glad he was jumping in, and he seemed to have developed a rapport with the others already, presumably from his adeptness with the Trenton PD.

"Or listening," Alex countered. "She could've just been waiting for you to trigger a bug."

"Did you respond?" I asked him.

"I didn't yet, but Carolyn has an idea of what to say."

I looked at her, and she quickly picked up the thread.

"I think he tells her that he was lonely, so he went to McNally's."

That was one of their hang-outs, but not one they'd been to recently. Rhonda probably knew about it, but she wouldn't have expected him to go there, so it was a good choice.

"So the plan is to see if she'll meet him somewhere?" Liz asked. "Won't she see that as a trap?"

"I'm betting that it'll take a day or two," Goren spoke up. "The first time, she'll probably watch from somewhere to make sure that he's truly alone. But if he keeps her talking, and sticks with the party line, she won't be able to resist."

"And then we go in and arrest her," Bernard stated.

"No," Alex said, which brought about many questions from everyone except Goren.

Clearly they'd worked out an extended version of the plan.

"If we arrest her right away, we'll be running the risk that the Jersey evidence won't stick. Taggart is dead, so he can't roll on her. The other Taggart has already admitted to his part and we might get him to make a statement against her for her part in the kidnapping, but he doesn't know about the rest of it."

"So if we want her on the identity theft, grand larceny, and potential murders of all of the rich old men, then we need to catch her in the act," Carolyn stated, quickly cluing in to where the Gorens were going.

And as much as I didn't like it, I knew that he was right. An ADA would have a fit with evidence brought in by private investigators across state lines. It may work, but it was just as likely to get thrown out.

"So I have to meet up with her, maybe at a place that holds some significance to us as far as she's concerned, and then convince her that I want Strathmore's money, too," Logan spoke up. "You want me to go along with her plan."

"Right," Alex agreed with a nod. "It'll mean spending more time with her. A lot more time with here. If you don't want to do it, we can all understand…"

She trailed off and I watched as Mike and Carolyn held a silent conversation. I wouldn't blame him if he said no.

And if he didn't want to do it, then we could still set her up to be brought in on the Raleigh murder. She'd still go away for a number of years. We may even be able to get enough evidence on her to add the stalking charge.

But the kidnapping would probably get away from us. And those two had been cops for long enough to know that.

"We'll do it," Carolyn said at last, her eyes never leaving Mike's.

"Are you sure?" Goren asked her. "Just luring her to meet with him might've taken a couple of days, but getting her to believe that he's onboard with her scam, well…we don't know how long that'll take. And during that time, we'll have to keep up the ruse that you're dead."

And he didn't say it out loud, but I knew that everyone was thinking it.

Rhonda was a barracuda. A few dates with her, and Mike had better be wearing an iron chastity belt with state-of-the-art padlocks.

"We're sure," Mike said. "She's going down for the kidnapping. And for the murder, attempted murder, and everything else."

"We need to be able to keep someone on him," Bernard said, quickly getting into the spirit of the sting. "Someone she hasn't seen."

"I think I've got a guy," I said. "I should know within the hour. In the meantime, you guys get set up in a conference room, and lay this thing out. I want a blow by blow plan so that nothing slips through the cracks."

Everyone cleared the room except for Liz.

"I don't think I like the sound of this, Danny."

"I know. But it'll work."

"You hope. What if she gets violent with Mike, and he has no back-up?"

"Who said anything about no back-up? Besides, Rhonda's not violent herself. She always gets someone else to do her dirty work."

"So what's to stop her from getting someone else to take care of Mike?"

It was a valid point.

But he was set on taking her down for everything that she'd done to his wife, and I didn't blame him. I looked at Liz as she stared at me with worried eyes and I tried to put myself into Mike's shoes.

No, I didn't blame him one damn bit.

And if I had to take a week's vacation and follow him around myself, then that's what I'd do.

TBC...


	24. Chapter 24

**Logan POV**

* * *

Our plan had Ross' stamp of approval.

But that wasn't the most important thing as far as I was concerned.

It also had Carolyn's endorsement. She was willing to hide in the shadows and watch me make nice with the enemy.

She's made of tough stuff, my wife. I wasn't sure if I'd be able to do the same were the situation reversed. Hopefully I would never have to find out.

I'd exchanged a couple of texts with Rhonda throughout the day and the end result had me heading for Leo's at six o'clock. I hadn't been to Leo's in a long time, but it was where I'd first met Rhonda. It used to be a cop bar, but now it was just a dive.

Carolyn was in the backseat of an SUV parked down the block. Ross and Bernard were in the front. The Gorens were in a separate vehicle that was currently parked near Steve-O's, with a view of the building across the street. They'd been there since four and were hoping to catch her leaving.

To date, their attempts to track the names on any of the vacant units had proved frustrating, but today Alex had enlisted the help of an old friend who currently worked in Computer Crimes. Maybe she would have better luck at cutting through the red tape.

Rodgers was inside Leo's. We felt confident that even if Rhonda had seen her before, she wouldn't put it together that Liz was with me. Besides, she was a blonde now. Last year during the Raleigh case, she'd been a redhead.

Her purpose was to be a set of eyes and relay events to the SUV parked outside. I had a tiny earpiece that was a two-way com device but sometimes it was tough to get a point across to back-up while engaged in a conversation with the target. So Liz would be my mouthpiece if necessary.

Ross hadn't been thrilled with the prospect of Liz being on the inside, but she'd argued her case masterfully. I wondered idly if he'd ever won an argument with her. I seriously doubted it.

As I walked into the bar, I kept an eye out for my newly assigned shadow. Ross had stolen a top-notch detective from Counter-terrorism and then pulled him into our sting.

And he'd done it all today.

The man kept impressing me with his resourcefulness and his willingness to help.

So I scanned the crowd at the bar for Detective Lupo.

I'd heard of him, but never met him. Bernard had described him to me, and I'd only halfway listened because I figured, hey – I'm a cop. I can pick out another cop in a bar, especially when I knew that he was supposed to be actually sitting at the bar, thus narrowing down the pool of possibles considerably.

But after a moment, I realized that I was glad that I had at least partly listened, because the place was jam-packed and Lupo completely blended. I would've never guessed him for a cop.

He sat on a barstool in jeans and a t-shirt, looking about two-days unshaven. He was drinking a beer and chatting up a good-looking blonde. She looked like a willing participant, but then he must have caught sight of me out of the corner of his eye. He leaned in close and said something to her that was obviously offensive, because she backed away from him quickly before grabbing her drink off the bar and walking away.

"Ouch," I said as I took her vacated stool. It had been smart of him to use the woman as a means of saving me a seat. "Crash and burn."

"Yeah, I noticed," he replied as he took a sip of his beer.

"Plenty more where she came from," I remarked as I looked over the crowd.

"Nah, I was just practicing my skill. Use it or lose it, my friend."

I nodded thoughtfully while I waited for the bartender to bring me a beer.

"I'm Cyrus," he added, holding out his hand.

"Mike," I told him as I shook it. Then we studiously ignored each other for the next several minutes.

I'd let Rhonda know that I was coming here tonight, but I had no expectations that she would actually approach me. I figured that she would either watch me from a safe location or she'd send in a flunky to check me out. My money was on the latter.

This bar had been a good choice because it had a mirrored wall so I was able to look at the other patrons without turning around.

Lupo reached across in front of me to grab a bowl of pretzels and as he did so, he said, "Anyone interesting?"

"Booth, far right corner," I answered casually. I took a drink of my beer, and then added, "Does he look like a cop to you?"

"We're looking for cops?"

"Trust me."

I waited patiently to allow Lupo time to check out the man in question.

He was sitting alone in a booth, and had been since I'd arrived. That in itself was unusual for a place like this. He hadn't checked his watch, so I didn't think that he was waiting for a companion. Instead, he kept trying to casually look in my direction. And playing with his cell phone, like maybe it wasn't working right. More likely, he was taking pictures.

"Definitely a cop," Lupo agreed after a minute. "And he's taking pictures."

I hid my smile behind my glass as I took another sip. I liked this guy already.

"Liz, get a picture of the guy alone in the booth so we can get an ID on him," I said while I looked at Lupo to perpetuate the image that I was speaking with him.

"_I am so far ahead of you, Detective Logan,"_ she replied quickly. I knew that she was loving this double-oh-seven stuff, and she'd reverted to calling me detective. Her enthusiasm was catching, and I felt the rush of adrenaline that usually accompanied undercover work.

"He's too far away to be listening," I stated to Lupo and then I nodded at the customers on either side of us. "And women aren't her style, so I think we're safe to talk."

"Okay. So you're supposed to be here getting over your grief."

"Right. From two days ago," I elaborated with an eye roll.

I subconsciously ran my thumb along the underneath side of my ring finger. I hated not wearing my wedding ring. But if I was moving on from Carolyn, then losing the ring was part of the act.

"And this guy is in here to do what? See if you pick up any women?"

"That," I agreed. "And to see if I've got friends."

He nodded and turned back toward his beer.

"You should pick someone up then," he said quietly.

"Already?"

"Undercover is kind of my specialty," he replied with a wry smile. "Trust me, if she's got a guy taking pictures, the best thing for you to do is to give her something to look at. It's my understanding that she wants you for herself, right?"

I nodded, and he continued.

"So she's not going to stay away while you find a replacement," he concluded. Then he tipped his head toward the mirror. "The woman next to you keeps looking at you. It shouldn't be too hard."

"I don't know," I argued.

God, I hated this.

I'd prepared myself to deal with Rhonda. I could do that because I knew it was the means to an end.

But pick up another woman? While my wife was listening?

"_Don't pretend that you don't know how."_

That was Carolyn's voice in my ear.

"_He's right,"_ she continued. _"If the spy reports back that you're getting cozy with someone else, it might draw her out."_

I knew that she was right, but this was just wrong on so many levels.

"Let me guess. Your wife is listening," Lupo stated with a grin.

He didn't have the com device, but it probably wasn't hard to figure out the reason for my reluctance. And certainly Bernard had filled him in on the dynamics of the team, even though he'd hadn't yet met any of the others in person.

I shrugged and nodded.

"Hey, how many opportunities are you going to get to pick up a woman and not get into trouble?" he asked.

"You're not married, are you?"

"No," he replied emphatically. Then he glanced in the mirror again. "I'm going to work on the girl next to me, so you know, if you need any pointers or anything…"

"I don't need any damn pointers," I interrupted. He just grinned at me again and then turned to the woman next to him.

It was put up or shut up time. And if I wanted Rhonda, I had to put up.

"Hey, I'm Mike," I said, turning to the blonde sitting next to me. "Can I buy you a drink?"

"Sure," she replied quickly.

I waved to the bartender and got us each a refill.

**

* * *

**

Carolyn POV

I listened in amusement while Mike chatted up the woman in the bar.

And I can say I listened in amusement because not only did I know that it was a game, but also because he hadn't used any lines on me when we'd started dating, so it wasn't like I was getting any feelings of déjà vu.

In fact, it had been me chasing after him.

I also noticed that he purposely avoided calling her sweetheart. At one time, that had been a name he'd used on women in general.

Now, he saved that term of endearment just for me.

"_I've got several shots of the guy they suspect is a cop,"_ Liz said into her mike. _"And Mike is making great headway with the bimbo at the bar. I'm guessing he'll be heading out in no time."_

"You know he can hear you, right?" I laughed, thinking about Mike listening to Liz calling his prey a bimbo while trying to sweet-talk her at the same time.

"_Oh. Yeah, sorry. I forgot_."

I heard Bernard and Ross chuckling in the front seat. They were listening, but I was the only one in the car with a mike. I'd insisted on being able to talk to him because I knew he would hesitate when it was time to hit on a woman.

I tuned out Bernard and Ross and focused back on Mike.

"_Why don't we get out of here?"_ the girl was saying. _"My place is only a few blocks."_

"Are you kidding me?" Bernard said. "He talks to her for less than ten minutes and she's ready to leave with him? I thought Lupes was a good wingman, but maybe I need to start tearing it up with Logan."

I cleared my throat loudly and Bernard looked appropriately remorseful. Not that I cared. It actually made me feel good to know that Mike was so desirable to other women. Because I knew that he didn't have eyes for anyone but me.

"_Sure,"_ Mike said, agreeing to the woman's proposition.

"_He's getting up from the bar and putting on his jacket,"_ Liz told us.

Ross' phone signaled a text message.

"Goren says Rhonda left the building as though it were on fire," he read aloud.

"She's getting her scoop in real-time from the cop," I concluded, letting Mike in on the latest. "She's probably headed this way. If you can leave slowly, she might get here in time to see you."

_"I'm going to pay my tab, sweetheart,"_ Mike said, and I could tell that he was talking to me. He was letting me know that he would take his time and pay with credit rather than leaving enough bills on the bar to cover the tab.

"Good move. I'll let you know when she gets here."

Ross got on the phone with the Gorens as they followed Rhonda at a distance.

"She's definitely heading this way," he told us.

"What's she going to do?" Bernard asked. I clicked off my mike for a second before answering.

"I'm betting she's going to try to intercept them. She's not going to want to let him go off with another woman. This is her proof that he's ready to move on."

"Are we going to see a cat fight?"

I rolled my eyes and shook my head at him. I liked Bernard, and I couldn't blame him for being a typical guy, but he seemed a little too excited at the prospect. Or maybe I just didn't like the idea of the cat fight being over my man, when I wasn't one of the two cats involved.

"Maybe," Ross answered. "Goren says she's parking down the block right now."

"What's the status, Liz?" I asked after switching my mike on again.

"_He's signing the receipt. The bimbo looks anxious. They should be heading for the door any minute."_

"I can't believe this timing," I muttered when I saw Rhonda hustling up the street.

And the sight of her filled me with anger and loathing and quite frankly, a murderous rage. It was all I could do to force myself to stay in the car when what I really wanted to do was get out of the backseat and empty my clip into her chest.

"She's going to catch you right outside," I warned Mike.

Rhonda crossed the last side street and was now in front of the windows of Leo's as Mike opened the front door. Being a gentleman, he allowed his conquest to exit first and then he followed her out and fell into step next to her. I cringed as she clasped onto his arm as though she were afraid he might escape.

"_Mikey!"_ Rhonda squealed when she saw him. "_You're leaving? I'm only a little late."_

"_I didn't know you were coming,"_ he replied simply. He was a good actor. I knew his skin had to be crawling.

"_Beat it, honey. This one's mine_," Rhonda said to the other woman who was still clutching Mike's arm.

"Just go, sugar," Bernard mumbled. "It's going to get ugly."

I was glad to learn that he must have been teasing about his desire for a fight, but at the same time, it looked like we might get one anyway.

"_I don't think so_," the woman said. _"He's with me."_

Mike side stepped away from the woman in an effort to stand in a neutral zone.

"_Take it easy, ladies_," he said as the tension mounted. Both women were in a stare down.

"_Mikey, tell the little girl here that it's a school night and she needs to go home_."

"_Kayla, I'm sorry_," Mike said. "_But maybe we should try this another time."_

"_Are you kidding me? No, you know what? Just forget it,_" the girl shouted.

"_I'm sorry,"_ Mike said again.

"_Asshole_," she added as she pushed past Mike and Rhonda and stormed off down the sidewalk.

"_She's a little young for you, don't you think_?" Rhonda said to Mike as she stepped closer to him and ran her hand down the lapel of his jacket.

I wanted to look away, but I couldn't. It was like watching a train wreck.

"_She didn't seem to mind_," he answered easily.

"_So, are you ready to go_?" Rhonda asked, shifting gears.

"_Go?"_

"_To my place. I've been waiting a long time for you_," she said.

And then she tightened her grip on his jacket and she kissed him.

TBC...


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N: I am back from vacation. If you've been enjoying Marco Polo over the past week, you have Mitzvahgirl to thank. Not only did she take on the responsibility of posting my chapters, but she is also the one who cracked the whip hard enough in the week prior so that I had plenty of chapters written and ready to go. Thank you so much! I may be writing the words, but the ideas and effort into this story is a fifty-fifty collaboration.**

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Liz POV

* * *

I knew that it was wrong of me to be having fun on this little mission, but I couldn't help myself. It was a change of pace from dealing with cadavers, and I liked that I was able to feel useful.

So I'd taken lots of pictures of the man watching Mike. In fact, I'd gotten a picture of everyone in the place just in case Rhonda had more than one person keeping watch.

But as it became obvious that Mike was going to score with the young lady at the bar, I started to get nervous.

Was Rhonda going to show up?

If she did, then what? Because this exact scenario hadn't been discussed. Several variations had been touched on, but not this precise one.

If Rhonda came now, she'd catch Mike in the act of getting ready to go home with this woman. And if she managed to run off the other woman, then she'd be expecting Mike to go home with her instead.

Because he was clearly looking for some action, and she'd be more than willing to provide it.

I watched as Mike paid the check and then slowly made his way to the front door.

I'd known the man had charisma, and I'd certainly been aware of his reputation prior to his commitment with Carolyn, but still…I had to admit that seeing him in action was impressive.

He projected confidence without arrogance and he had a smart sense of humor. I couldn't blame the girl for falling for his act.

Hell, I would've gone home with him in a second.

If I were in her shoes, I mean.

I smiled at my own thoughts as I watched his progress out the door and then I looked back at Lupo. I'd worked with him on several occasions and knew him to be an excellent cop. On the surface, he appeared to be completely absorbed with his companion, but I knew that he was attuned to Mike.

"_She's going to catch you right outside,"_ I heard Carolyn say to Mike. Yep, this was going to be the worst-case scenario.

We didn't want Rhonda here right now. Now Mike was supposedly looking for sex. We wanted her when he could talk to her about her plans for Strathmore. He could fake interest but I wasn't sure what his plans were for the rest of it.

But I knew that he needed help.

Lupo had pulled off being an acquaintance in the bar. Rhonda would never peg him as back-up, even with the photos. And aside from me, he was the only one of our group that we felt sure she didn't know. Even Bernard had been around too much and may have been made.

So we needed to preserve Lupo's anonymity for now. This wasn't a matter of life and death. We might need him again later.

And besides, Lupo was a guy.

Guys didn't stop other guys from a sure thing. Not without looking suspicious anyway. Guys high-fived and waggled eyebrows and made lewd suggestions. They didn't interfere.

"_She's a little young for you, don't you think_?" I heard Rhonda say to Mike.

"_She didn't seem to mind_," he answered. His words sounded casual, but I knew that he had to be sweating bullets.

"_So, are you ready to go_?" she asked him. Her words spurred me into action. I got up from the table and tossed down a ten to cover the drink that I'd been sipping on for the past hour.

"_Go?"_

"_To my place. I've been waiting a long time for you_," I heard her say in a tone that made me want to throw-up. Women really talked like that?

I opened the door and stepped out on the sidewalk just in time to see her grab Mike by the jacket and lay a steamy kiss on him.

"I'm on it," I said into the mike.

"_Liz,_" Carolyn argued weakly, but then she stopped.

Unless we actually expected Mike to sleep with Rhonda, we needed to get him away from her. She was buying his act about being over Carolyn. And she believed that he had forgiven her for her sins.

That had been our goal for tonight.

I began staggering drunkenly towards the pair.

"Hey!" I called out loudly even though I was now only a couple of feet from them. Rhonda slowly backed off of him, so I threw my arms around him.

"Hey, I know you!" I slurred. "You were in Leo's earlier, right?"

I sagged heavily against Mike, running my hands over him while Rhonda began to protest my affection.

"Mikey, who is this?"

"I…um…I have no idea."

"Sure you do! I saw you from across the room," I said in a sing-song voice. Hey, Mike wasn't the only one who could act.

"What do you want, lady?" Rhonda asked rudely. "We're on our way home."

"The cops are coming," I said as I finally pulled away from Mike. "Somebody was pick-pocketing a bunch of people in there."

I stared hard at Mike as I said the words and then I added in an exaggerated whisper, "I'm not going to hang around. They might be looking for me."

I shifted my gaze to Rhonda in time to catch her concerned expression, and then I said, "I just wanted to warn you. You know…"

"Oh, okay," Rhonda said, grabbing Mike by the arm. "Thanks."

They turned and went down the sidewalk, and I continued my stagger as I went across the street.

Once I was far enough away, I said into my mike, "Mike, check for your wallet."

I wanted to turn and look, but I couldn't risk it.

Instead, as I got to the other side of the street, I heard Mike say, "_Shit! My wallet's gone too! I'm going to have to go back in there."_

"_But Mikey…"_

"_I'm sorry. But it's got my concealed weapon permit, my PI's license…I've got to report it."_

I went around the corner and climbed into the SUV.

"What did you do?" Carolyn asked me with an astonished expression.

"I stole his wallet," I said, pulling it out of my pocket and holding it out to her. "He'll go back into the bar and wait for the cops and she'll have to hightail it out of here."

**

* * *

**

Carolyn POV

Rodgers was my new hero.

I wanted to ask how she'd become so adept at pick-pocketing, but it could wait. Right now, I was just thrilled to death to see Mike walking away from Rhonda. He was going back inside and she was heading for her car.

"_Can you come by later_?" she'd asked when he'd insisted on waiting for the police.

"_I don't know how long this will take_," he told her. "_Can we meet tomorrow? There's something I want to talk to you about anyway. I might need your help."_

"_You need my help Mikey? I like the sound of that."_

She'd perked up then, and had willingly left him, but of course only after planting another kiss on him.

And I am not a jealous person.

Really.

I trusted Mike, and I had faith in his commitment to me, and I knew that he loved me unconditionally.

And frankly, jealousy requires a show of emotion that I rarely allow myself to exhibit.

But lately, I'd been letting more and more come through.

And the sight of her plastering her lips to his was almost too much for me to take, especially when he had to play along.

So even though I sat silently, my blood was boiling.

Ross' phone buzzed again.

"Rhonda's in her car. The Gorens' are going to follow," he said.

"Are they going to see if they can get in the building?" Liz asked. "To find out which unit is hers?"

"That's the plan, if they can get away with it."

I only vaguely heard the discussion around me.

"We know she's gone," Ross said. "But her spy is still in there. Tell Mike that we'll send a unit to the bar for him to make a false report. In the mean time, we'll drop you back at the hotel. He can meet you there when he's done."

"Maybe we should wait," I said quietly.

"She's not coming back," Bernard stated. He pulled his phone out of his pocket. "Not tonight."

Then he talked to his old lieutenant and asked her to send a squad car to Leo's and he let her know that the reports that were going to be filed were fictitious.

"I'll fill you in over a beer some time, Loo," he told her, and then he hung up and looked at me.

"Okay, we're good. Tell your boy the plan."

So I did.

"Wait for the uniforms, make your report, and then meet me back at the hotel. She's gone, but keep Lupo there to watch your back just in case. Clear your throat if you're with me."

He gave the signal, and so Ross started up the car and pulled away.

"Liz, what in the hell were you thinking?" Ross asked as he started towards the hotel. "You were only supposed to observe."

"He needed a way out," she replied with a shrug. "And I thought I could handle it."

"It's not your job to handle it," he argued. I could understand that he'd been a little worried about her, but I thought she'd done a great job.

"Captain, she let us preserve Lupo's cover," Bernard said quietly. "He could've gotten your boy out of the situation, but then he'd be useless in the future. This way, your perp still doesn't know who he is."

"But now she knows who _she_ is," Ross countered to Bernard as he tipped his head toward the backseat where Liz sat next to me.

"Yeah, she knows I'm a drunk who stumbled out of a bar," Liz said sharply. "And no, I won't be able to get away with being an uninvolved bystander again but it's not like she's going to target me next. She has no idea who I am."

No one said anything for several miles, and then finally Ross let out a heavy sigh.

"You're right. It was just unexpected," Ross conceded. And then he glanced at her in the rear view mirror. "And where in the hell did you learn to be so slick at swiping wallets?"

They dropped me off in the parking garage of the hotel where I slipped in through the back entrance. I made my way up to our tenth floor room and then paced as I waited for Mike.

It was going to take awhile. An hour probably, at least.

I could've taken a shower. Or a bath. I could've turned on the television or looked through the casefile or done just about anything else to pass the time away.

But instead, I walked around the room and thought about that damn kiss.

_Both kisses._

Why was it bugging me so much?

Because he'd kissed her like that before. He'd slept with her.

He'd used _her_ as a substitute for _me_ in our not-so-distant past.

And yeah, okay, so that had been my fault. He'd been lonely because I'd left him.

But still…it was making me crazy.

And I wasn't mad at him.

I was…something I couldn't put my finger on.

_It's jealousy, Carolyn_, my mind supplied. _Good old-fashioned green-eyed monster._

It made me want to throw something or break something or scream at the top of my lungs.

And my unexpected show of emotion seemed to fuel itself.

The more I _thought _about how much I wanted to do these things, the more I _wanted_ to do these things.

I wanted to beat the crap out of someone, preferably Rhonda, but most anyone would probably do. I just had so much energy bubbling inside that I _needed_ to do _some_thing.

And then I heard the keycard in the door lock.

It was probably a good thing that it was actually Mike as opposed to a maid or some other hotel staff, because he'd barely come through the door when I jumped him. If it hadn't been him, I'm not sure if I could've stopped myself in time.

But as it was, I launched myself at him before he could get the door closed. He managed to catch me reflexively and to his credit, he only staggered backwards a couple of steps before regaining his balance.

I kissed him enthusiastically, desperate to erase Rhonda from his mind. Not that I thought he was thinking about her on purpose. But I didn't want him to even do it by accident. I wanted to remove all traces of physiological memory associated with that woman.

He got us all the way into the room and closed the door with his foot. I'd had my arms and legs wrapped around him, but I didn't want to give him the control, so I put my feet back on the floor and began backing him into the wall.

I accomplished this without breaking contact. I didn't need him to say a word. I had other uses for his mouth.

I pulled his jacket off of him, and then wasted no time with his shirt and pants. They all reeked of cheap perfume and so I kicked the offending garments as far away from me as possible.

"Slow down, sweetheart," he rumbled when I finally needed to pull back for air.

"I can't," I admitted as I shoved him down on the bed. I quickly pulled my shirt over my head and then unzipped my jeans and shoved them down. "Is that a problem?"

"No…no…um…no, problem at all, but…"

His words trailed off as I climbed onto his lap, and in one fluid motion, took him in completely. I used my teeth against his earlobe and then whispered, "I want you to fuck me."

And that did it.

My words brought him to the same level of frenzy that I was experiencing, and from that moment on, everything was a blur of sensations.

He'd lost all control, but so had I.

It was intense and passionate and almost competitive in the feats that we attempted. It was a race toward a finish line and yet neither of us was ready to cross it, so then we'd back off and go at it again from another direction.

Between the two of us, it was a miracle we didn't break anything.

Well, we did break the lamp. And the alarm clock.

And despite being a marathon of extreme, need-based physical activity, it was also emotional.

When we finally finished, and we were lying crossways on the now-bare mattress, I worked hard to catch my breath.

But I felt exhilarated.

I didn't need to break something or scream.

_Well_, I thought with a smile, _I guess I just did both of those things._ But I didn't feel the jealousy anymore.

"I'm sorry," I said at last when I realized that I hadn't even let the man in the door before I'd completely ravaged him.

"Sweetheart, what in the world are you sorry for?" he asked me. He rolled onto his side and began trailing his fingers in a path from my stomach up to my collar bone.

"I didn't really give you a chance to say no."

"Well, yeah, because if you'd given me a chance, I would've turned that down in a second," he replied with a grin. He moved his fingers on up to my cheek and brought his eyes to mine. "So this was jealous Carolyn, out of the box, huh?"

"I guess so. I don't have much experience with that. Are you going to be okay with it?"

"With you? Showing me exactly how much you love me?" he asked. "Yeah."

Then he leaned in and kissed me softly. After a moment, he pulled away but he put his arm around me and brought me up against his chest.

"I guess we underestimated her a little, didn't we?" he remarked. "I thought she'd be business first, then pleasure."

"Maybe she figures that'll be her assurance of your commitment. It would be hard to fake it."

"Well, that's not going to happen," he said emphatically. "We'll have to think of another way to get her talking."

"We had her tonight. You did good. Liz did good. Rhonda's on the hook. I think if you set up a meeting with her during the day in a public location…she might start talking."

"And if she doesn't?"

"Then we'll have a plan in place," I said confidently, even though I wasn't sure what the plan was just yet.

"Will that plan include you and me coming back here and working off your jealousy again?" he asked with a grin.

"You like this a little, don't you?" I accused playfully. "You like getting me worked up."

"Sweetheart, it's the one bright spot to this whole fucked up mess."

TBC...


	26. Chapter 26

**Bobby POV**

* * *

We'd sat outside of the building across from Steve-O's for more than two hours.

In the old days, stake-outs used to drive me crazy. My legs are too long to sit comfortably in a car for any length of time, and to be honest, I don't have the patience for it. I need to be moving.

But since I'd partnered with Alex, I'd learned to like stake-outs a little more. It was a time to talk with her, often about things unrelated to the case at hand. It gave me a chance to poke and prod a bit, extracting tiny pieces of information from her that offered me glimpses into the woman as a whole.

And now that I was married to her…well, stake-outs were fairly entertaining.

Being trapped in a car with her was certainly no hardship, and she was much more forthcoming with the personal stories.

Although after the first half hour, she'd banned me from touching her in an unprofessional manner.

"I can't think when you do that," she'd said with a smile. And I could tell that even though she was laying down the law to me, she was just as disappointed about it as I was. "And we can't get the windows steamed up or we won't be able to see her when she leaves."

"_If_ she leaves," I corrected. "We don't even know for sure if this is going to work."

"That's true," she admitted. "But if she's everything we think she is, then she'll be watching him. She probably would've left by now if she was going to go herself, but she'll have someone there. And if her source confirms that there are no cops waiting in the wings to arrest her, she won't be able to resist."

"So…"

"So you stay on your side of the car."

I sat back in my seat and watched through the windshield for a moment.

Then I drummed my fingers on the dashboard.

Then I let my leg bounce up and down.

"Get out and take a walk if you need to," she offered.

"No. I'm too visible. I can't risk her making me."

"Yeah, I'm sure she has vivid recall of you," she said, chuckling lightly. "I think I can still see the imprint of her foot on your…"

"Hey!" I interrupted. "That's not even funny."

But it was and I couldn't stop from laughing.

She really had kicked me hard. Just thinking about it was causing a sympathetic throbbing in my nether region.

"I wonder what Mike ever saw in her," Alex mused as our laughter died down. "I mean, she's nice-looking, but she's so…"

"Vindictive?" I offered. "Malicious? Psychopathic?"

"Well, she is all of that, but I was just going to say pushy. She's not Mike's type at all."

"He was lonely. It can make a person display atypical behavior."

She looked at me for a long minute and I wondered what she was thinking. I was hoping that she wasn't going to ask me if I'd ever been lonely enough to pick up a woman like Rhonda.

"Did he ever tell you how it ended with them?" she asked carefully. I could tell that she wasn't asking because she wanted to know.

She already knew, but she wasn't going to tell me if Mike hadn't.

"He called her Carolyn," I said with a nod. "He told you that?"

"Yeah, when we were in Minnesota. He was pretty drunk," she replied in explanation. "And he was so excited that Carolyn had said that she wanted to marry him."

"I guess he's wanted her for a long time," I commented, once again watching out the window. It wouldn't be a good thing if we got so engrossed in our conversation that we let Rhonda slip out unnoticed.

"And it partially explains why Rhonda was so obsessed with getting rid of Carolyn," I added.

"So did you ever…"

"Did I ever what?"

"Did you ever use the wrong name?" she asked me in a conspiratorial voice.

"You mean did I ever call another woman Alex?"

"I didn't mean that specifically," she denied.

"Yes you did," I stated. "But no, I didn't. Did you?"

"I…never…said anything at all," she admitted at last.

"Nothing?"

"Very rarely. And definitely never a name."

"I find that so hard to believe," I replied. Alex was by far the most vocal lover I'd ever had.

"I was afraid that I would say the wrong name," she confessed. "Especially during the last several years before we got together. In my head, they were all you."

And as much as I hated thinking of her being with anyone else, even from before I had any claim to her, I loved that at least she'd had me on her mind.

"And don't get the wrong idea," she added. "There weren't very many."

"I thought about you, too," I admitted. "That's when I just quit altogether. I felt bad that I was imagining you instead of whoever I was with."

"Mike said that Rhonda told him she didn't care, that he could call her any name he wanted."

"That's probably because Rhonda wasn't even her real name," I reminded her.

"Good point."

We were both quiet for a few minutes, each lost in our own thoughts.

I resumed tapping my fingers against the dash until I saw that Alex was offering her hand to me, palm up.

I stilled my motion and accepted her hand, putting my fingers through hers and then settling our joined hands on my thigh.

"I had an interesting thought last night when I was talking to Cathy," she said at last. She kept her eyes on the building while she talked.

"Yeah? What about?"

"Us," she replied simply.

My heart skipped a beat as I pondered over the possibilities of what kind of epiphany she may have had.

Although, her talk with Cathy had come before she'd seduced me in the bathroom, so it couldn't have been a bad thing.

_And I had to quit being so damn fatalistic_, I reminded myself.

"I was thinking about how she and Steve have been together since college, and maybe that was why she was starting to feel restless."

"That is a long time to be with the same person," I agreed, still unsure of her direction.

"I guess it can be."

"What does that have to do with us?"

"It occurred to me that maybe I was being too judgmental of her. Because if Joe hadn't died…even if we'd stayed married…once I met you, I would've left him."

I leaned my head back against the seat and turned it sideways to look at her. She was still looking straight ahead, and I was struck yet again by how much enjoyment I got from just _looking at her_.

"You don't know that," I said softly.

"I do know that. He was someone who I cared for very much. But he wasn't you."

She finally turned to look at me, and I took the risk of letting our target go unwatched for a moment. Her simple declaration had done more for me than the most flowery of words, so I leaned across the seat and kissed her. It was shorter than I would've liked, but we couldn't allow ourselves to get too caught up in the moment.

I sat back and let go of her hand so that I could use my fingers to brush her hair back behind her ear.

"Tell me why you pierced your ear three times," I said as I gently ran my finger over the diamond stud and tiny hoops along the edge of her ear and then I picked up her hand again and faced forward in the car.

There was still no sign of Rhonda. The dashboard clock read nearly six, which was when Logan had told her that he would be at the bar.

I'd be curious to see how long it took her lookout to give her the go-ahead. Or if she even went at all tonight.

"Well, I got the first set when I was fourteen," she began with a smile. "I was mad that my mom wouldn't let me do it sooner because all of my friends had already done it. She told me that I had to wait until I was eighteen."

"Eighteen? For piercing your ears? I'm going to take a wild guess and say that she must not have known you were drinking beer by age seventeen."

"I never said that was my first beer," she told me with a pointed look. We were both remembering the story she'd told me about her dad catching her on the roof with a six-pack of beer.

"So you were drinking at a younger age than that? Alex, I'm so disappointed in you," I teased. She chuckled and continued her story.

"I didn't do it all of the time, but I just didn't see the big deal. If I wanted a beer, I drank one. If I wanted to stay out until midnight, I did."

"So let me guess. You pierced your ears without permission."

"I did," she agreed with a smile.

"Your mom is gray because of you, isn't she? Not your brothers, not Cathy – you."

"I was a little bit difficult," she admitted. "You know how I like to break rules."

"Yeah, but I thought it was a new thing."

"Let's just say that it's a recently re-discovered passion. For awhile, I got a little caught up in doing things by the book, but then someone reminded me about how much more fun it can be to toss the book out of the window from time to time."

"Me? You're going to blame your wild streak on me?"

"I'm going to say that you bring it out in me. It was hidden for awhile."

"That's a good thing, right?"

"Definitely."

"Okay, so what happened when your mom found out?"

"Nothing. She threatened to make me take them out, but she didn't."

"Your dad backed you up, didn't he?"

"I think so. Not in front of me, but that would be my guess."

"So, what about the second one?"

"I did that before I went into the academy."

"A statement of femininity," I said.

"You know me too well," she replied in surprise. "Yeah, I was going to be one of fifty women in a class of more than eight hundred. It was kind of a subtle reminder to myself that I was still a woman."

"And the third?"

She hesitated for a minute, but I waited patiently with my eyes still on the building's exit.

We had time. She could tell me or not.

"The third was retaliation," she said at last.

"Really? For what?"

I may know her well, but I wouldn't have guessed that.

"Um…Joe hated the extra earring. He wanted me to take it out and just let the hole close up. He said that it made me look like a hooker."

"A hooker?" I asked, nearly choking on her remark.

"He didn't like me to wear much jewelry. He was big on keeping it simple, so my excessive display of earrings just wasn't his thing."

"So you…went and got another one?" I asked, and for some reason, that thought had me loving her even more. I loved her independence and her stubbornness and her rebelliousness and her…

"Yes I did," she said, interrupting my ongoing internal list of favorite qualities. "He actually gave me sort of an ultimatum one day. He was on days and I was on nights, and so I was getting into bed as he was on his way out of the door, and he looked at me and said that I _would_ have that thing out by the time he came home."

"He was making a stand…about an earring?"

"He was trying to establish the hierarchy in the household," she said calmly.

I wondered how many years it had taken her to be able to talk about that without expressing anger. I couldn't imagine a scenario where I would _insist_ that Alex do anything.

"The earring just happened to be the medium," she continued. "He was using that as the point of contention, and he wanted to prove that he was the man and, at home, that meant his word was final."

"Huh," I said, my shock robbing me of my vocabulary. But then I realized where her story was going. "So, instead of taking it out, you went right then and got another one."

"Yep," she said with a grin.

"What did he say when he got home?"

"Oh, he got over it. I think he finally realized that if he wanted to boss his wife around, then he'd married the wrong woman. But I always left it in as a statement."

"I can appreciate that," I told her, and I was inexplicably proud of how the twenty-something Alex had handled the situation. "Don't ever take it out."

"Or do," I added quickly. "If you want."

She laughed at me, and squeezed my hand tighter in hers.

"Bobby, I think that with you, I might be okay with letting you boss me around a bit."

"You might? I thought you liked it when I bossed you around," I said, dropping my voice to a low, suggestive tone.

"That is true," she began. But before she could say anything further, Rhonda came out of the building.

"Text Ross," she said quickly, letting go of my hand and slipping the car into gear. "Look, she's getting into that car down the street."

And so we followed her, all the way to Leo's.

I wished that we were miked up so that we could hear what was going on when Liz staggered along the sidewalk and grabbed Mike in a close hug, but we'd have to get the details later.

Whatever she'd said had worked, because within minutes, Mike was hustling into the bar and Rhonda was jogging shakily on stilettos back to her car.

"She's going back to the same building," Alex said as she expertly maintained the necessary distance to allow us to keep Rhonda in view without getting made.

"We need to get in there," I said in frustration.

Who knew how long it would take to get the names for the empty units?

We needed some leverage. We needed to get inside and see what she was working on and what type of surveillance she had and who her cohorts were.

"Let's go then," she replied simply.

"Inside?" I asked as she pulled to a stop down the block from the building. Rhonda had already parked and was going up the front steps.

"We know for a fact that she's staying in here somewhere. We've documented the potential units. Let's go in and snoop around. What's the worst that could happen?"

"She could see us."

"Yesterday you said that wouldn't be such a bad thing. It would make her hurry her timeline."

"Well, she's already doing that. Now I think that maybe it's not a good idea to let her know how close we are to catching her. If we know where she's staying and yet we haven't reported it for her to be arrested, it'll clue her in to the fact that Mike is setting her up."

"She won't see us," she said confidently as she unbuckled her seatbelt. She reached for the door handle, but then stopped when she realized that I was still buckled.

"Come on," she encouraged.

"When did we switch places? I thought I was supposed to have the crazy ideas and you were supposed to try to talk me out of them."

But she just smiled at me and tipped her head toward the building.

"Are you in or out?"

"I'm in," I agreed.

When it came to Alex, I was always in.

TBC...


	27. Chapter 27

**Alex POV**

* * *

There was no doubt in my mind that Bobby was coming with me.

"I'm in," he agreed, and quietly got out of the car and walked around to meet me.

"I knew you would be," I replied smugly. "You can't resist."

"So what's the plan?" he asked with a playful grin. "Rappel down from the roof? Sneak in through the heat ducts? Detonate a small explosive device as a diversion?"

"No," I said as we reached the front door. I gave him a pointed look and then grabbed the door handle and pulled. It came open easily.

"How did you know it was unlocked? It wasn't when we were over here yesterday," he said in amazement.

"I know," I said.

And then I tapped my finger on the edge of the door, pointing out where I had jammed a small piece of napkin into the strike plate to keep the lock from fully engaging. Residents would simply punch in their code and then open the door, assuming that it had previously been locked. No one would ever be the wiser.

"You did that yesterday?" he asked. I shrugged and gave him a smile.

"I thought we might want to come back in here at some point. We were lucky yesterday to catch the door as that man was leaving, and I didn't want to have to depend on that."

He stared at me a moment longer, and then shook his head.

"I shouldn't be surprised or turned on, but for some reason I'm both."

I chuckled at him and we wandered into the lobby of the building. It was early evening, but it was fairly deserted.

"Where do you want to start?" I asked him.

"What does your gut say?"

"Second floor," I said quickly.

The second floor would be the ideal location, and there were vacant units there to choose from. She would like the angle of view, being able to look from slightly above, and yet she would be close enough to the ground for a quick and easy escape route.

"Then let's start there," he agreed.

I pushed the button on the elevator. The indicator light showed the elevator was currently sitting on the seventh floor, so I took a step back to wait for the car. That was when movement outside of the front doors caught my attention.

"Look," I said quietly.

And nothing specific about the man was cause for alarm except that he was setting off my internal warning system. He stood out on the porch with his cell phone to his ear.

"He looks like a cop," Bobby replied. "Off duty."

"Right. Cops couldn't afford this place."

"So he's friends with someone who can."

"You mean like someone we know who likes cops?" I suggested.

I looked up at the elevator display and saw that it had stopped on the second floor.

"It's stopping," I said, the urgency evident in my voice. It was a lot of guesswork, but if my hunches were right…

"She's coming down here," he said, reading my mind. He caught my eye briefly and then looked around the small lobby. "Stairs. Come on."

We hurried to the stairwell as the elevator dropped from the second floor to the first. It was on the far side of the lobby, but the door opened from the right direction, so once we were inside the stairwell, Bobby opened the door just a crack and we were able to see the front door of the building.

Seconds after we were in position, the elevator opened and I could hear the click of high heels on the parquet floor.

And then Rhonda came into view.

She flung open the front door and was immediately and enthusiastically greeted by the man outside.

"Definitely a cop," I whispered from my position directly in front of Bobby. I tried to ignore the press of his weight against my back and the smell of his cologne that surrounded me. We most definitely didn't have time for unprofessional thoughts at the moment.

"I wonder what she would've done with him if Logan had come back here with her," Bobby mused.

"She wouldn't have brought Logan here. She must have another place somewhere. This is her working hideout."

"This guy knows about it."

"He must be helping her. We need an ID on him so that we can find out what precinct he works in."

"Ross said that Liz got pictures of the accomplice in the bar. Can you get a good shot of him? We can match it up to what she got."

I pulled out my phone and snapped a couple of pictures, but it was hard to get a clean view of him with Rhonda plastered over him. I managed to get a decent profile shot just before she grabbed him by the coat and spun him around, slamming his back into the glass front doors.

"Maybe this guy doesn't know about the hideout. I mean, maybe he just thinks that she lives in the building because it doesn't look like she's going to invite him up," Bobby remarked.

"No, it looks like she's going to strip him down right there on the stoop," I added.

And then suddenly the show was over as quickly as it had begun. Rhonda stepped back from the man, turned around, and walked down the steps. He followed along behind her like a puppy.

"Follow, snoop or both?" I asked Bobby hurriedly.

I was curious to see where they were going, but it would be hard to pass up the opportunity to see inside her lair. That is, if we could find it.

"I don't really want to split up," he said. "But…"

"Go," I told him.

He was better dressed for an outdoor pursuit with his dark clothing and soft-soled shoes.

He paused for only a split-second before planting a quick kiss on the top of my head and then slipping out of the stairwell. I watched him until he cleared the front door, and then I took the stairs up to the next floor.

I reached for my phone and switched it to silent and then entered the hallway.

There was sound coming from a unit halfway down the hall and I vaguely recalled there being a couple of families that lived in the building, which I thought was odd. It didn't seem like a family place, but I guess people didn't always have the opportunity to be picky.

The three units in question on this floor were at the opposite end of the hall. Two were on the right and one on the left. I mentally ruled out one of the ones on the right simply because it was across the hall from one of the families.

But the other two…it could be either.

Which meant that I might be breaking into someone's apartment. Someone _other _than Rhonda.

This was beginning to be a familiar feeling.

I knocked on the first door, the one on the right. Three hard thumps were answered by silence.

I plastered my ear against the door and then knocked again.

Nothing.

I crossed the hall and repeated the action on the left side.

Still nothing.

So basically I had a fifty-fifty shot. I would either be a genius, and slip into the den of our psychopath, or I would potentially be arrested for B&E.

_Which one would Bobby pick_, I wondered as I glanced back and forth between the two doors.

And then I did something that I would absolutely never do if anyone was watching.

I sniffed the doors.

The one on the right had no smell. The one on the left smelled ever-so-slightly of Rhonda's cheap perfume.

I smiled and took a step back from the door so that I could analyze the lock. And yeah, okay, so I knew that Rhonda's perfume probably wasn't actually cheap, but still…

The lock was standard and took me no time at all. I randomly wondered what my father would think of me as I eased open the door and stepped into the apartment.

Proud?

Shocked?

Likely the latter, but that was okay.

Bobby would be impressed.

I got out my flashlight and began my search of the studio apartment.

**

* * *

**

Bobby POV

I didn't want to separate from Alex, but sometimes it was necessary. We were both armed and I would be the one following the suspect, so I felt reasonably sure that she would be safe.

I kissed her on the head and hurried out of the stairwell. I got outside just in time to see Rhonda and the mystery man turning the corner down the block.

I pulled out my cell phone and called Ross.

"Did you get an ID on the guy Liz took photos of?" I asked him in a hushed tone when he answered his phone.

I held my breath as I waited for his barrage of questions.

_Why? _

_What are you doing? _

_Why are you whispering? _

And his favorite one of all – _where is your partner_?

"He's a suspended cop from the 9-8 named Archie Sims."

I was nearly speechless from his immediate and complete response, but I managed to reply.

"Can you send the picture to my phone? I think he's with the suspect now."

"Are you in pursuit?"

"I'm just seeing where they're going. Rhonda went into her building. Alex and I followed, but then Rhonda came back out to meet up with this guy."

"You split up?"

"Alex is checking out the apartments to see if she can find out which one is Rhonda's."

"She's breaking and entering?"

"Um…no…no, sir. She is definitely not doing that. She's…um…knocking on doors."

Ross sighed, but not as heavily as usual. He was getting used to us.

"Liz just sent the picture. Be careful. And give me a call if Alex gets arrested for…knocking on doors."

I hung up with Ross and checked out the incoming picture.

It was the guy. So now she had a suspended cop doing her legwork.

I wondered if he knew that he was scoping out a former cop, or if he was just an innocent victim?

I wasn't sure, but I stopped short when I got to the end of the next block and realized that they were no longer in view.

_What the…_

And then I saw them. Or rather, I saw the back of Rhonda's head. They were in a car parked along the side of the street.

And it was rocking.

I wasn't sure what to do with myself because I was going to get made if I just kept standing in the middle of the sidewalk, so I ducked into the nearest building. It was a bookstore that was getting ready to close.

"Sir, I'm just getting ready to lock up," the sales girl told me.

I'd probably given her a heart attack considering the commotion I'd made entering the store. But now I was standing at the front window, holding a copy of the latest bestseller while my eyes watched the beat-up Honda. It was going for broke, and I feared for the suspension on the ragged-out vehicle.

"Sir…"

"I'll just be another minute," I told her, giving her my most charming smile. I waited until she smiled back and then I turned to the window again.

It _had_ to only be another minute. No one could sustain that momentum for too long.

I pulled out my phone and sent Alex a text.

_**Rhonda's offering our guy his payment for spying on Mike. You've probably got ten minutes at the most.**_

I held my phone in my hand and watched the Honda and ignored the sales girl.

After five more minutes, the rocking slowed down, and then another minute after that, Rhonda got out of the car. She straightened her skirt and ran her hand over her hair and then headed down the sidewalk.

Archie simply started up the car and pulled away. I made mental note of the license plate, although I wasn't sure what that would tell us, and then I thanked the clerk and slipped out of the store.

As I followed Rhonda back to her building, I sent Alex another text. She hadn't responded to my first one.

_**She's coming back. If you're in, get out. Meet me in the stairwell.**_

I didn't want to risk Alex getting busted coming out of the building, so we could just wait until Rhonda had gone back upstairs.

I held the phone in my hand, waiting for a reply but I still hadn't heard a thing by the time Rhonda entered the building.

_Shit_.

I stayed behind a column outside of the building and dialed Alex's number, watching through the front doors as Rhonda got on the elevator.

But it went to voice mail.

And then I knew.

She'd turned it to silent.

We were so screwed.

TBC...


	28. Chapter 28

**Alex POV**

* * *

I had to give Rhonda points for neatness.

The room was immaculate, just like her house in White Horse.

No one could ever accuse her of having a disorganized mind.

Creepy maybe.

And psycho.

But very, very organized.

I slowly ran my flashlight over the living space.

It was sparsely furnished with a couple of chairs and a twin size bed. But what caught my attention was the desk.

It was a large work area with two computers and various audio-visual equipment. I crossed the room and stood in front of it. The computers were on, but the screen-savers were running. I had no way of knowing the amount of idle time they were set for, but I took the risk and moved the mouse.

Big surprise. The desktop wallpaper was a picture of Mike.

_This woman had a serious fixation…_

I opened up the C-drive to see what kind of folders she'd saved there. More organization.

I loved it when the bad guys were neat freaks.

She had a folder labeled with each of the names from the files. This was the electronic version of her stash in White Horse. John Strathmore, Walter Raleigh, Andrew LaFrance…

I didn't have time to go through them all, but I pulled my keys from my pocket. I kept a data stick on the key chain, so I quickly stuck it into the USB and copied the files.

Then I ran the mouse over the outside of the folders to see which had been most recently accessed.

John Strathmore, only an hour ago.

We were most definitely on the right track. She must be seeing dollar signs now that she thought Mike was coming around.

The files finished copying, and then I shifted my focus onto the second computer. When I jiggled the mouse, I found Mike's face yet again. The C-drive contained several folders with dozens of pictures of Mike, detailed accounts of his daily activities, and transcriptions of the conversations she'd recorded from his home.

Once I realized what I was reading, I stopped. I would let Carolyn go through the transcriptions because it wasn't any of my business.

I jammed the stick into the port and once again copied all of the information. This one had so many pictures that it took longer, so while I waited, I made another pass around the room. I went to the window and got out my phone so that I could take a picture from the same vantage point just for future reference.

And that was when I realized that I had just missed a call. I also had two text messages, both from Bobby.

I opened the first one:

_**Rhonda's offering our guy his payment for spying on Mike. You've probably got ten minutes at the most.**_

Damn, I should've thought to look at it sooner, but it never occurred to me that she would be gone for such a short length of time. I quickly scrolled to the second one.

_**She's coming back. If you're in, get out. Meet me in the stairwell.**_

The time stamp was three minutes ago.

I hustled back across the room to the computer. The files were ninety-five percent complete.

My heart was pounding in my chest while I pondered my options.

The missed call was probably Bobby's last ditch effort to catch me. She was most likely in the building. She'd never take the stairs, not in those heels, so she'd have to wait for the elevator, then walk down the hall…

I tried my best to psychically hurry the progress of the copy, but it went at its own pace which right now felt impossibly slow.

I looked around the room for a place to hide because there was no way that I'd have time to get out.

There was a lone closet and a bathroom. There was also the bed, but I sure as hell wasn't going to hide under there.

I'd have to wait for her to go to sleep.

I could hear her key in the lock as the file finished copying.

I jerked the stick from the computer, closed the C-drive folder, and made a mad dash for the closet.

I closed the door just as she was opening the front door.

I struggled to catch my breath quietly.

_What would she do if she caught me in here_?

What would _I_ do?

I mean, yes, I had my gun.

But I was in _her_ apartment. Or the apartment which she currently inhabited. We'd had yet to learn whose name was on the lease.

Regardless of the name on the lease, it was still a possibility that I could get hauled in for B&E.

Because I knew that she had the kind of balls needed to call in the police.

Sure, there was a warrant out for her arrest. But it was in the name of Rhonda Hagen, and was now modified to also include Renee Yoder.

I couldn't imagine that she'd have much difficulty pulling off an alter ego long enough to have me taken downtown, especially if she had her own cops on speed dial, which I suspected that she did.

And even though I knew I'd be able to get it sorted out, I didn't want the cops involved just yet.

Because not only did _I _not want to be arrested, but I also didn't want to have _her_ arrested right now. I wanted her to go down for everything, not just some of it.

Would she risk it?

It was unlikely. Even if she got away with filing the report, she'd have to pack up and find a new hide-out.

But still…

I could just see the look on Ross' face if I got charged with a Class E felony. He wasn't our boss anymore but I knew that he still felt the need to protect us. He would use his pull if it came down to it.

And I could only imagine that Bobby was pulling his hair out right about now, trying to figure out a way to get me out of here.

I took a step backwards in the closet and looked around.

It was dark, but I cautiously felt around and realized that it was a decent-sized storage space with shelves along one side and a rack for coats along the other.

There was more room toward the back so I took a couple of steps further into the darkness, but I stopped when I bumped into something.

And that was when I noticed the slight yet distinctive smell.

A wave of disgust went through me.

As carefully as I could, I pulled my flashlight from my pocket and turned around. My suspicion was confirmed.

Apparently, I was not alone.

**

* * *

**

Bobby POV

I ran down a list of possible ways to get Alex out of there.

I could pull the fire alarm.

I could call Mike and see if he could persuade Rhonda to meet him.

I could call the cops and just have Rhonda arrested.

Or, I could be patient and see what Alex could come up with herself.

Because she was pretty resourceful.

So I wasn't going to panic. Much.

Once Rhonda got onto the elevator, I went into the building and entered the stairwell. I could only guess that Alex had followed through with her supposition that Rhonda was on the second floor, so I went up one flight and stuck my head into the hallway.

All was quiet. I guess that was a good thing. There was no gunfire yet.

And I could think about that rationally because I wasn't overly concerned with Alex's safety. She was armed and quite adept at using it.

But I didn't want to blow the case or have her get arrested.

It was unlikely that Rhonda would call the police, but she obviously had ties to numerous members of law enforcement, so she could possibly create enough trouble to hold us up for a few hours at least.

Long enough for her to cut her losses and run.

But as far as a physical confrontation, if Rhonda was stupid enough to take on Alex, well then this case was just going to end right here. I'd put my money on Alex every time.

I stayed just inside the stairwell on the second floor, unsure of exactly what to do next.

I felt confident now about the amount of time that had passed since Rhonda had gone inside. Alex had a hiding spot.

Or was I even on the right floor? Had Alex guessed wrong, and now she was trapped on the third floor, possibly needing my help, while I loitered aimlessly a floor below?

I had to check. I was up to the next landing when my phone buzzed in my pocket.

_**I'm in the closet. 2**__**nd**__** floor last door on the left. JUST WAIT.**_

I wasn't sure why she felt the need to write that last sentence in all capitals, but I retraced my steps back down to the second floor.

And waited.

I should just pull the fire alarm. Rhonda would leave the building, Alex could get out of the apartment, and then we could slip out amongst the masses.

But what about all of the innocent people in the building? Panicking because they thought their homes were going to burn down? Rushing to exit the building, possibly hurting themselves or others…

Nix the fire alarm. It wasn't a good idea.

I wracked my brain as I watched down the hall, although what I was looking for I couldn't say because the hall was empty.

And then suddenly it wasn't.

Because there was Alex, slipping out of the door at the other end. She ran quickly towards me, so I held the stairwell door open and, without a word, she went past me and down the stairs. I was right on her heels, but neither of us spoke until we got to the car.

"You are not going to believe this," she said.

"How did you get out of there?" I asked her.

"Oh, she went to the bathroom," she said casually. "I was in the closet. When I heard her go into the bathroom, I snuck out."

She wasn't even sweating. The woman was incredible.

"What did you find?" I asked. Her enthusiasm was contagious and I couldn't help but feel the rush from the excitement of the evening.

"Well, for starters, there's a dead guy in the closet," she said. "A long time dead. A couple of months, maybe. I'm betting he's the name on the lease."

"So you hid in the closet with a dead guy?"

"I didn't know he was in there when I went in," she clarified. "But I also got this," she stated, holding up her data stick. "Now we know what she knows."

This was huge. Now we could be sure to stay a step ahead of her. We would know exactly what she was looking to accomplish and then we could cut her off at the knees.

"So where'd she go when she left the building?" she asked me as she started up the car.

"She and the cop had a quickie in his car down the street. Ross ID'd the guy as a suspended cop from the 9-8. He's the one who sat in Leo's tonight taking pictures of Logan."

"So he's helping her."

"Looks like it. In exchange for sex, at least. I don't know what else he's getting out of the deal."

"Do we have an address?"

"For the cop?"

"Yeah."

"Why? Haven't you had enough espionage and intrigue for one night?"

"I'm just getting started," she said with a grin. "We need to start taking out her resources. Let's go talk to the guy and find out if he knows he's been aiding and abetting a known fugitive."

"You want to blackmail him into cooperating?"

"You make it sound so much worse than it is. I like to think of it as presenting him with his options."

I pulled out my phone and typed the name Archie Sims into the white pages search.

"He's listed," I said in surprise. "And it's only eight blocks away."

"Then why would they have sex in the car? Even if she didn't want him in her place, couldn't they have gone to his?"

"Let's go ask him."

**

* * *

**

Ross POV

I paced the house with my phone in my hand.

I had a bad feeling about this.

Alex was breaking and entering.

Goren was stalking.

Those two were going to get busted.

I think that maybe they were having a little too much fun pushing the envelope now that they weren't governed by departmental rules.

_But they still had to abide by the law_.

Or what?

They were skirting the edge of the law to catch a criminal. Rhonda Hagen wasn't going to blow the whistle on them.

What would happen if she caught Goren following her? She'd probably just run.

What would happen if she found Alex in her apartment? Again, she'd be in the wind. That is, if she could get away from Alex.

So really, what was the harm in what they were doing?

And I knew that they were being a little overzealous due to their protectiveness of Mike and Carolyn.

Rhonda had messed with their family, so now she was a sworn enemy to all of them.

To all of_ us_, I amended.

I'd stuck my neck out to get Lupo assigned to my department. And yes, that was for my benefit as well, but I'd gotten him transferred immediately. I had him assigned to this case within a matter of hours and arranged for him to be undercover.

I was really trusting Bernard on this one, too, because I didn't know Lupo other than by reputation.

He'd held his own tonight though. He'd stayed under the radar, and he'd let Liz handle the interference considering it wasn't life and death.

_Liz_. She'd been quick on her feet. And I had to admit that a rush of jealousy had hit me at the way she'd hugged Logan, but then when I learned she'd snagged his wallet…

As though on cue, she came into the living room and handed me a drink.

"How did you manage to get Logan's wallet?" I asked her.

"You've never stolen a wallet?" she asked me as she sat on the couch and took a sip of her drink. I sat down next to her and put my phone on the table next to me.

"No," I stated. "I can honestly say that I've never stolen a wallet."

"It's not that hard," she replied. "It's just about misdirection."

"I know that. But you did it so well."

"I saw it in a movie when I was…oh, about thirteen," she told me. "I wanted to see if I could do it. I went to the mall with some friends and we gave it a shot."

"You've been doing it since you were thirteen?"

"I don't do it _now_," she insisted on a laugh. "And I wasn't very good at it then. I got caught the first few times."

"First few times? How often did you do it?"

"I don't know," she said, still smiling. I was amazed to learn this about her. I'd always thought she was so straight-laced and honest. "I never kept them."

"You…you stole wallets and then gave them back?"

"It was the thrill of taking them without getting caught. I always turned them in, saying I'd found them on the floor or something."

"Mall security must have thought you were the most conscientious teenager ever," I replied drolly.

She chuckled again and took another sip of her drink.

"I liked the adventurism. That's why I had fun tonight. And you have to admit that my skill came in handy."

"I will admit that, yes. You did great tonight."

I leaned over to kiss her, relieved that I was finally able to shove the Gorens from my mind, but then my phone rang. I stopped my motion, mere inches from her lips, and closed my eyes.

"Hold that thought," I told her and then I backed away and reached for my phone.

A quick glance at the display confirmed my suspicion.

It was Alex.

"Is this your one phone call?" I asked. I meant it to be teasing, but part of me sensed that might be wishful thinking.

"Yes," she replied. "But it's not what you think."

"Do I need to come to a precinct to vouch for you? To owe a favor to another captain?"

"Yes…um…you see it's…"

"Which one?" I asked, holding in the sigh. I knew they didn't go looking for trouble, and like I said, this one was all about protecting family. I wasn't going to bust their balls.

"We're at the 6-9," she replied.

"For B&E?"

"No. Assault."

TBC...


	29. Chapter 29

**Bobby POV**

* * *

We got to the home of Archie Sims within a matter of minutes.

"How do you want to do this?" I asked Alex as we got out of the car. "If we let him know that we saw him with Rhonda, then he's going to tell her. Then she'll know that we were there tonight."

"We tell him the truth," she stated. "We're investigators hired to track down Rhonda Hagen. He was seen with the suspect tonight. We find out whether or not he knows what she's up to. He'll either be suitably horrified like any good cop would be and he'll be willing to work with us to take her down, or he will have known that she's a bad seed at which point we'll make a citizen's arrest and convince the precinct to temporarily deny him his phone call."

By this time we were at the entrance of the building. There was no main-door security, so we went inside.

"Sounds like you've got all of the bases covered," I told her with a smile. She never failed to impress me with her quick mind and her fearlessness.

"I'll do the talking," she said as she stopped in front of the appropriate unit. "You get a read on him."

After four knocks, Archie Sims opened the door.

He was bigger than I'd realized, now that I had an up close and personal perspective. He'd taken off his shirt, or maybe he'd never put it back on after his encounter in the car, but whichever the case, he stood in front of us dressed only in unbuttoned jeans. He held a can of Miller Lite in one hand and a cigarette in the other.

"Archie Sims?" Alex confirmed.

"Yeah, who's asking?"

"We're investigators hired by the NYPD…"

And that was as far as we got with her brilliantly crafted plan.

Because as soon as Archie heard her say _NYPD_, he flicked his cigarette in our general direction and then reached around behind him.

I grabbed his arm in an effort to keep him from getting a weapon, and then he cold-cocked me with his beer can.

I staggered sideways a step, mostly from surprise, and before I could recover, Alex punched him.

He lunged at her, taking her down to the floor in the hallway outside of his apartment. I saw her land another good jab to the chin, which was pretty impressive considering she was flat on her back, and then I grabbed him in a bear hug from behind.

He threw his weight backwards, giving up on Alex and focusing his energy on me. He had me backpedaling into the wall and then he head-butted me, using the back of his skull against my nose.

Despite the pain, I held on because I didn't want him going after Alex again. I also knew that he had a weapon jammed into the back of his pants because I could feel it against into my gut.

And then suddenly he surged forward, doubled over as if in pain. And of course he was. Alex had just kicked him twice in the mid-section and then followed it up with a right cross to the face.

"Weapon!" I shouted to Alex as I struggled to maintain my grip.

"I called the cops!"

It was a neighbor, peeking through the crack of her apartment door, watching the melee.

"We are the cops!" Alex shouted back as she reached between me and Archie, feeling for the gun. She grabbed the .45 from the back of his pants and then stepped back.

"Let go of me!" Archie yelled.

"Stop fighting me and I will," I told him. He gradually stopped flailing and so I slowly relaxed my hold.

"I guess I don't need to ask if you knew that Rhonda was a criminal," Alex said smartly as she wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth.

We were all breathing heavily, but Archie was clearly in the worst shape. He was still hunched over, and he finally took two more steps before easing down onto the floor.

He sat with his back up against the wall and looked up at us.

"Who the fuck is Rhonda?" he asked bitterly.

"The woman you were shtupping in the car," I told him. He just glared at me for a minute and then looked back at the floor. I nodded at Alex and so she took over.

"You know that we can arrest you for aiding and abetting a fugitive, right?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Then why did you attack us?"

"I got no love lost for the NYPD. I figured you were coming around to hassle me."

"About what? Your suspension?"

He shrugged and kept looking at the floor.

"Okay, let's talk about Rhonda," Alex said switching gears. "She sent you to Leo's tonight. Why?"

"She said some guy's been hassling her. She wanted to get dirt on him."

"So you took pictures of him sitting in a bar? How would that help?"

"How should I know? Maybe he's married or something and she wanted to out him to his wife."

"Uh uh. Try again."

Archie sighed heavily and leaned his head back against the wall, finally making eye contact again.

"I don't have to tell you shit. You ain't no cops and you just assaulted me in my own home. I think I'll wait for the _real_ cops."

I bit back the childish urge to remind him that he'd been the one to start the brawl and instead I just stared at him.

He was most definitely hiding something, and I had no doubt that he was in this thing with Rhonda up to his eyeballs. She must really have a knack for finding the bad seeds in the NYPD.

"Archie, you're in serious trouble," Alex tried again.

I just kept watching him and I could tell that I was starting to get under his skin.

"Do you realize the number of crimes that Rhonda is guilty of committing?" she continued. "And the additional ones that she's working on as we speak? She's going down for a long time. Do you really want to go with her?"

"She hasn't done anything," he said lamely, shifting his eyes from me to Alex then back to me. "And quit staring at me. I said I'm not talking. I want my lawyer."

"But we're not real cops, remember?" Alex said. She squatted down in front of him to be at eye level. "So we don't have to read you your rights, and we don't have to quit talking just because you asked for a lawyer."

But the words were barely out of her mouth before the NYPD showed up. Four beat cops with weapons drawn came flooding into the hallway.

"Put down your weapon!" one of them shouted. Three of them were pointing their guns at Alex, since she was holding Archie's .45, and the fourth was aimed at me. Neither of us had drawn our own weapons.

"I'm going to set it down," she said calmly. "We're licensed investigators. We both have weapons. I removed this one from Mr. Sims to keep him from using it on us."

"That's bullshit!" Sims yelled. "I opened the door and they jumped me and stole my gun!"

"Officer," I began as I took a step towards the nearest cop. "We can explain the situation to you…"

"Turn around and face the wall! Now!"

I caught Alex's gaze and rolled my eyes before slowly turning around and putting my hands on the wall.

This was going to be a long night.

**

* * *

**

Alex POV

We were driven to the 6-9 in the back of the black and white.

All three of us, crammed into the backseat. Handcuffed. With our hands behind our backs.

My repeated attempts to calmly explain the situation were ignored.

"Our captain will sort it out," one officer finally told me.

Archie didn't shut up for the entire drive, but he didn't say anything useful. In fact, all he did was attempt to establish his story that Bobby and I had assaulted him.

And he was quite adept at prevarication because by the time we got to the 6-9, I almost believed it myself.

"Don't put me in a holding cell with either of them," he said when we went into the squad room. He'd injected fear into his voice, and I sighed heavily.

"Are you kidding me? You guys are really buying this crap?"

"Ma'am, settle down. Have a seat and we'll try to get this straightened out."

"I need to make my phone call," I told him as I continued to stand.

"We'll give you a chance to do that after we take care of the paperwork."

"No, I don't think so. We're being railroaded here."

The tone and volume of my voice brought the 6-9 captain out of his office.

"What's going on out here?"

"Captain, my name is Alex Goren, I'm formerly with the NYPD Major Case Squad. My partner and I have been falsely accused and now we're being denied our right to a phone call."

I decided that using the word _partner_ instead of _husband_ would make us sound a little more professional. I caught Bobby's eye and knew that he was on board with me.

In fact, he was letting me do all of the talking which was probably a good thing.

"Who are you going to call?" the captain asked me, his eyes narrowing.

_As if that mattered_.

Who the hell was this guy?

Yeah, he'd been the boss of those assholes Taggart and Woody.

_Please tell me that he's not dirty, too_.

"Captain Ross," I stated.

"Your old captain?"

"That's right. The case that we're currently working on is a joint effort between our private agency and MCS."

"Call him. I want to talk to him and find out why the hell his colleagues are going around beating up citizens in my district."

He turned around and went back into his office, slamming his door behind him. If I weren't handcuffed, I would've flipped him off, but at least his words made me feel a little better.

He might be an asshole, but I didn't think he was dirty. Otherwise Bobby and I would be sitting in a cell right about now.

So I held my tongue and waited while the cop rudely removed the cuffs from my wrists so that I could make a call. He indicated the phone on his desk, but I pulled out my cell phone and called Ross.

"Is this your one phone call?"

That was how he answered the phone. And I'm sure he thought he was being funny, but his timing sucked.

I was working desperately to hold my temper in check so that I didn't make things worse for us. And the officers had insisted on leaving Bobby handcuffed while I made the call.

What did they think he was going to do? He was a decorated retired officer of the NYPD for the love of God.

"Yes," I answered. "But it's not what you think."

And then I hemmed and hawed my way through telling him the condensed version. The _really_ condensed version. Which was that we were in custody at the 6-9 on charges of assault.

To his credit, he seemed duly upset. And I knew for a fact that he had the number of the 6-9 captain on speed dial. So after hanging up with him, I sat down and gave the officer at the desk my best glare.

"Is it really necessary to keep him handcuffed? We're not going anywhere. Our captain is on the way."

"He's not really your captain anymore though, now is he?" he replied smartly. He was a little punk ass rookie and his arrogance had just put me over the edge.

"Fifty bucks says we're out of here within the half-hour. And that's only if he gets held up in traffic."

"You're on."

"Making bets with a criminal?" Bobby asked him in amusement.

"What? No…I….I…" the cop stammered in flustered confusion.

"Pastori!"

That was the captain. I sat back in my chair and smiled at the officer.

"Yes sir!"

"Let those two go. And hang on to Sims. He doesn't get a phone call until I say so."

"Yes sir."

I stood up with a smug grin and tipped my head towards Bobby.

"You can take those cuffs off now. And return our weapons. Then we need to talk to Sims."

"Um…I don't know about that. He didn't say anything about you guys getting to talk to…"

"You keep the fifty," I interrupted as he uncuffed Bobby. "We talk to Sims and I'll call it even. Ten minutes is all we need."

Five minutes later, we were walking down the hallway that led to the holding cells.

"Assault," I muttered. "I'll show them assault."

"You handled that perfectly," he said. "If it were up to me, we'd both be in lock-up."

"Ross is definitely a good one to have on our side. It only took a phone call…"

"Yeah. But now Sims is in here. Sooner or later, Rhonda's going to know he got popped. We're running out of time."

"Well, let's see if we can scare anything else out of Sims now that he knows we're untouchable," I said. "The cops have his cell phone, right?"

"Yeah, I saw them voucher his personal effects, even though they didn't take ours."

"Then when Ross gets here, we'll confiscate Archie's cell phone and see if we can manipulate Rhonda. If we come at her from enough directions, she'd going to end up right where we want her."

"How do you plan to do that?"

"I think we pull one of her tricks on her," I suggested.

"You want to send her a text from him?" he asked me, the smile spreading across his face.

"You're always right there with me, aren't you?" I replied, returning his smile.

"Where else would I be?"

TBC...


	30. Chapter 30

**A/N: A bonus chapter for today, because...well, I felt like it. **

**Ross POV**

* * *

I hung up with Alex and grabbed my coat.

One thing for sure is that there was never a dull moment around those two.

_Assault?_

And they were at the 6-9 which meant that idiot Captain Tosco was probably jerking them around. I'd never liked him, but when Goren was being framed for that stripper's murder, he'd certainly not made things any easier.

He'd refused to speak out against Moran and he'd attempted to defend his two officers, Taggart and Woody, even after the overwhelming evidence had been discovered.

I had no use for him and he knew it.

He also knew that it would only take one phone call from me to the commissioner to have his ass out on the street.

"What's going on now?" Liz asked as she slipped into her jacket.

"The Gorens were picked up for assault. I'm going over to the 6-9. I'll call you when I know more."

"You don't need to do that," she argued. "I'm coming with you."

"Liz, this is business. It's not necessary."

"These are our friends. And if it was an assault, they might need me to check them over."

I stopped in my tracks and sighed heavily.

"Oh, no wait – never mind," she said smartly. "I know how much they love going to the emergency room. I'm sure they'll go get checked out right away."

"Liz…"

"The faster you quit arguing with me, the faster we can get to the 6-9 and find out what in the hell is going on."

I don't know why I bother.

Seriously.

And not just because I rarely win, but because she was usually right.

I wasn't on the clock. She knew the business. She knew when to step back and let me do my job.

So what did it hurt for her to come along?

And it actually would work out perfectly.

"You drive. I'm going to call Tosco," I told her, tossing her the keys. She flashed me a smile and climbed into the car. I got Tosco on the phone.

"Herb. It's Ross," I said sharply when he answered. "I hear you've got a couple of my colleagues over there."

"They got popped for assault."

"And you know that's crap. Did your officers even bother to get their story?"

"A neighbor called 9-1-1. My guys showed up and one of your people was holding the resident at gun point. And he's beat all to shit."

"They're licensed investigators. They were decorated officers. They should've been given the benefit of the doubt. If you tell me you had them handcuffed…"

"Look, Ross. My guys went by the book."

"Bullshit. You're bending over backwards to crank up your arrest rate so that you look good to the commissioner. Let them go and do it now. If you're lucky, they won't press charges for false arrest."

I hung up the phone before he could argue.

"You sounded pretty sure of yourself," Liz said calmly as she drove us into Brooklyn.

"I am."

"There's no way Alex had time to tell you what happened."

"She didn't. But you know as well as I do that they didn't assault anyone. If there was a scuffle, then the other guy started it."

I sat back in the seat and let my temper build as Liz drove us into Brooklyn.

I realized that not only was I okay with the fact that she was with me, but I was actually _glad_ that she was with me. I was starting to appreciate why the Gorens and the Logans liked working together.

There was something comforting about the person by your side during a crisis being the one who knew you better than anyone else.

We walked into the precinct together, and I quickly scanned the room for Tosco or the Gorens. I didn't see any of them.

"Where's your captain?" I asked the first officer I came to.

"He's in his office," he replied, pointing toward the door on the far side of the squad room.

Liz stayed behind while I crossed the room and flung open the door of Tosco's office without even knocking.

And yeah, I was being an ass but he had it coming. He was a sniveling little dick who didn't deserve to be a captain, and I wasn't going to let him get away with faking his way to a promotion.

"Where are they?" I asked by way of greeting.

"Thanks for knocking," he replied smartly. I glared at him until he finally answered my question. "My officer let them go, just like you asked. They may have left the building."

"Because they had their car, right? Because you let them drive themselves here rather than shoving them into the back of a squad car? Try again."

"Pastori!" Tosco shouted, even though he was still sitting at his desk. "Where are the two investigators?"

I followed Tosco's gaze out into the squad room and looked at the officer in question. He was young, and his face was flushed red, and I had no doubt that both Alex and Goren had made mince meat of him.

"They…um…went to um…talk to the…um…complainant."

"What? I said let them go! I didn't say give them access to the holding cell!"

"Herb," I said sternly. "You were interfering with an MCS investigation. The so-called complainant is a suspect in connection with a serial killer. They're trying to ascertain valuable information."

"They don't work for MCS," he replied firmly.

"No, that's right. They're working _with _the MCS. They're contracted, paid consultants as per the authorization of the commissioner," I reminded him.

And I had no doubt that my last remark was sufficient to shut him up, so I left his office and waved Liz over.

Together we headed in the direction of the holding cells.

**

* * *

**

Alex POV

"So you had no idea what she was up to," I commented in annoyance. I'd had about enough of Archie Sims. "Why did you think she wanted you to keep an eye on Mike Logan?"

"I didn't even know his name, I swear. She showed me a picture of him and told me to tail him and make sure that he didn't have company."

"Company. You mean like a lady friend?" Bobby asked him.

"I mean like cops. She figured a cop could sniff out another cop."

"And did you?" I asked him. "Sniff out another cop?"

"Nah, the guy was clean."

I struggled to keep my face impassive at his ignorance.

"When did you meet Rhonda?" Bobby asked him.

"Two months ago."

"Wait, let me guess," I interrupted. "You were in a cop bar."

"Yeah," he replied, and then he looked pleased with himself. "_She_ came on to _me_. She said she wanted to know how big my gun was."

"A .22 at best," I said with a roll of my eyes. "So after you discussed…weaponry, then what? Did you ever go to her place?"

"No, she always came to mine."

"And it's been going on for the past two months?"

"Off and on. She usually comes into the bar a couple of nights a week."

"So she comes in, you buy her a drink or two, and then…" Bobby encouraged.

"We go back to my place."

"So why the car tonight?" I asked him. He just shrugged as though he couldn't care less.

"She was in a hurry, I guess."

"And you didn't think it was odd that she wouldn't invite you up when you were right in front of her building?"

"Nah, man. I don't know her deal. Maybe she's got an old man or something."

"So what else has she asked you to do?" I asked, shifting gears. "Besides check Logan for cops?"

"She had me follow him a few times. And this other chick once or twice."

I caught Bobby's eye and he gave me a slight nod.

"Why?" I asked carefully. "Do you always make it a habit of stalking people?"

"Hey, it was last month. Before Christmas, but I don't remember the dates. She said this chick was threatening her and she wanted to find out where she lived."

"And the warning bells didn't start going off with that one? Come on, Archie. You're not that stupid."

"Rhonda hinted that the chick was an ex-girlfriend or something. She plays for both teams, you know."

"Rhonda?" I couldn't keep the surprise from my voice. No way was Rhonda into women. She must have just recognized that the suggestion of it to Archie would smooth the way for getting him to do what she wanted.

I had to admit it. She did have manipulation down to a science.

"Yeah. And the chick I followed was pretty hot. I thought maybe if her and Rhonda got back together then…"

"You thought they'd let you in on their fun?" I asked. Maybe this guy _was_ that stupid. "What did this _chick_ look like? No wait, let me guess. About my height, dark hair, brown eyes…"

"I don't know what the hell color her eyes are," he replied. "But yeah, she was about your size. Rhonda called me one day and says to get my ass into Manhattan. She said this chick was in some guy's apartment, and she wanted me to see where she was going."

"What apartment?"

He gave the address of Logan's old apartment building. Our office.

"After that first time she asked me to watch her a little. You know, see if I could get a pattern."

"Is this her?" I asked him, showing a picture of Carolyn that I had on my phone.

"Yeah."

"Where'd she go that first time?"

"A bunch of places. But then she ended up at some house in Brooklyn. Same place Logan went to. I guess they were shacking up or something. I told Rhonda, and asked her what she wanted me to do, and she said nothing."

"Nothing. So you gave her this woman's address and then you just let it go?"

"I just thought…"

"Yeah, I know," I interrupted. "You thought you were going to get lucky with both of them. This ex-girlfriend story didn't seem off to you considering Rhonda was sleeping with you, and you pegged the other woman for living with Logan?"

He just shrugged noncommittally. I continued to glare at him through the bars, and then I leaned in close and told him, "You know this woman's dead, right?"

"What? Shit! No!"

"Shit yes," I retorted. "And you gave Rhonda the information she needed to do it."

"No way! No, she just wanted to scare her!"

Bobby and I looked at each other again, and then he ducked his face to hide his grin. _Another one bites the dust_.

"Scare her by doing what? I thought you were just following her?"

Archie sighed heavily and walked around the cell for a minute.

"I _did_," he insisted.

"And then what did you do?"

"She had me watch the home one night. Both of them were there, the woman and Logan. I waited until they turned the lights out so that I was sure they were in bed and then…and then…"

I knew what he was going to say before he said it. And I wished I'd hit him harder when I'd had the chance.

"You shot up their front door," I supplied.

Archie dropped his head and didn't say a word, but unfortunately for him, he was standing close to the bars. Bobby reached his hand through and grabbed a fistful of shirt, pulling Archie tight up against the steel.

"You opened fire into their _home_? What the hell is wrong with you? You could've killed both of them!"

"No, I…I said that…I…I waited! I waited until it was dark!"

"You had no way of knowing where they were," Bobby said in disgust. He jerked Archie again, keeping his face crammed against the bars.

"Let him go, Goren."

It was Ross, but he was speaking calmly. I didn't know how much he'd been witness to, but I understood that he needed to keep things on the up and up.

Bobby slowly let go of Archie's shirt and gave him a shove backwards.

"What have we learned?" Ross asked us.

"This asshole is the one who shot up Logan's door," I told him. "What did she promise you for that?" I added, once again shooting daggers at Sims.

"She said she could smooth the way to get me reinstated."

"How? Tell me exactly how you thought a badge bunny was going to get you your job back?" I asked him in disgust. Because as far as he knew, that's all Rhonda was – a bimbo who liked to hang out in cop bars.

"She said she had an in," he replied. "She said she knew the chief."

"Moran?" Ross asked, jumping into the conversation. "Don't you read the papers?"

"She told me all that shit was going to blow over."

"He's in _prison_," I said slowly. "It's not going to blow over. You really thought that shooting up someone's house was going to get you in the good graces of the NYPD?"

He just dropped his head and didn't reply. I glanced at Bobby, shaking my head at this guy's idiocy.

"So let's get this straight," Bobby began as he once again grabbed a handful of Archie's shirt. "You followed Logan. You followed the other woman. And you shot up their front door. Is there anything else we need to know about? Because if you don't tell us now, and then we find out later…"

"That's it, man. I swear. Nothing else."

I believed him. With the look Bobby was giving him, it would take a tougher man than Archie Sims to be able to pull off a lie.

I tapped Bobby on the arm and he let go of Archie. Together with Ross and Liz we left the holding cell area.

"Don't let him have a phone call," I told Ross when we were out in the hall. "We can't have him cluing Rhonda in."

"He won't get one. Not yet anyway. You want to tell me what happened?"

I gave a quick recap of the scene, and then watched in amusement as Liz checked out Bobby's head where he'd been hit with both a beer can and Archie's head.

"I'm fine," Bobby assured her, but he tolerated her attention.

"What about you?" Liz asked me.

"I think I bruised my ass when he tackled me," I told her. "But if it's okay with you, we'll hold off on that exam."

My comment had the desired effect, which was to ease her concern. She stepped back and gave me a grin.

"So Archie's one of Rhonda's minions," Ross remarked, getting our discussion back on track. "And now we know who shot up their door."

"And he was surprised when I mentioned that Carolyn was dead. I don't think he knows anything about her plans."

"So what's next?" Liz asked.

"Sleep," I said, as we started walking toward the exit. "I think we've had enough excitement for one day. Tomorrow, Mike can talk to Rhonda about Strathmore."

"He's going to meet her for lunch?" Ross asked.

"That's the plan," Bobby agreed. "He'll send her a text in the morning."

"We also need to see what's in the files I copied from Rhonda's computer," I added.

We definitely had our work cut out for us, but I wasn't going to complain about the amount of information we'd obtained.

"And I think we need to meet Strathmore," Bobby said. "We need to see if she's approached him yet."

"I can send Bernard, if you want," Ross offered. "I'm not sure Logan's ready for that."

I loved that he was concerned for Mike's emotional well-being.

"No, that's okay," Bobby replied. "I want to size him up myself."

"You can't protect him," Liz warned. "You know Mike. Eventually, he's going to want to meet him."

"I know," Bobby assured her. "But I can at least keep Mike from having to go in blind."

Ross and Liz drove us back to our car, and then we said our goodbyes and headed for home.

"It's tempting to just take Rhonda out right now, isn't it?" I remarked as we climbed into bed. It had been a long day, and it felt good to once again relax in Bobby's arms.

"It is," he agreed. "But I don't want her to slide on any of the charges. If we can get her on tape stating her plans for Strathmore…"

"Yeah, I know. I just hate that Mike has to keep up this act. I hate it for him and for Carolyn."

We were quiet for a few moments and then I heard Bobby chuckling lightly.

"What?" I asked him, unable to keep the smile from my face.

"I was just thinking about what you said to Archie," he told me. "A .22...that wasn't very nice, Alex."

"Call it an educated guess," I replied. And then I ran my hand down his chest and under the waistband of his boxers. "I do know my guns."

He barked out a quick laugh, but then expelled a breath as my hand closed around him.

I ran my fingers along his length before adding, "Now see here…_here_ we have more like a .44 magnum."

"Alex," he whispered on a long shuddering breath.

"Relax," I told him softly as I got up on my knees and tossed back the covers. "This won't hurt a bit."

I pulled down his boxers and eyed him appreciatively before adding, "I'm a trained professional."

TBC...


	31. Chapter 31

**Logan POV**

* * *

I was pleased to wake up Wednesday morning with the realization that neither Carolyn nor I had been plagued by nightmares. At least nothing that had awakened us in the middle of the night.

The remnants of vague, distasteful dreams tickled the edges of my brain, but nothing that I could put my finger on. I could live with that.

Carolyn was still asleep, so after pressing a kiss to her forehead, I rolled out of bed and bit back a groan.

My body was sore as hell.

She had really given me a workout last night, and it was possible that I was getting a little too old for that kind of thing. Muscles ached that I didn't even know I had.

I went into the bathroom and caught a glimpse of my image in the mirror.

The bruising on my face was fading nicely, although the fresh one from Carolyn on Monday night was still quite noticeable. I would never let her know that she'd caused it. I'd just let her believe that the one area was simply randomly worse off than the rest.

And now I had scratches on my back and a bite mark on my neck.

I shook my head and chuckled as I turned on the shower.

Those kinds of injuries I could live with. I didn't blame her for her over-zealousness last night. I had no problem with it.

In fact, I liked that it bugged her as much as it did. She was really starting to show more emotion than ever before, and while it was probably hard on her for the time being, it would ultimately help her to heal her long-buried wounds.

I knew a little bit about that. Burying your feelings never worked. They always came out eventually, and usually at an inopportune time. It was better to deal with things as they came.

Like John Strathmore.

I hadn't decided yet what I wanted to do about him. The bitch of it was that this case was going to rush me into making a decision.

I was going to have to deal with him. I couldn't put it all off on Goren, even though he'd offered to take it on. And I couldn't help but wonder how this thing was making him feel.

Was he worried that Strathmore might take his place?

I mean, I was pretty sure that Goren thought the same of me as I did of him, so now that I had an actual blood-related brother, did it bother him?

Did he think that it somehow made him less important?

I would need to clear up that misconception. I knew Goren was shaky in the self-confidence department.

_Like me_.

But I needed him to know that however this Strathmore situation ended up, it wouldn't change things between him and me.

But first things first.

I had to deal with Rhonda.

I'd managed to convince her in an amazingly short period of time that I was over Carolyn.

Goren had said that it would work due to the fact that she had such a high opinion of herself. He said that it would make perfect sense to her that I'd run to her after losing Carolyn. It was more or less what I had done the first time I'd lost Carolyn, only then I hadn't known that Rhonda was a psychopath.

But still…I was surprised that it was working so well.

And it wasn't that I'd doubted what Goren had said. It was just hard for me to fathom that any person had such an over-inflated sense of self-worth.

It was too bad she'd never met Carver.

He and she would've hit it off famously.

But so today I would set up a meeting and let Rhonda know that I'd found out about Strathmore, and from there we'd just have to play it by ear.

"Is there room in there for me?"

Carolyn's sweet voice pulled me from my thoughts, and I quickly opened the curtain so that she could join me in the shower.

I forced all hints of Rhonda from my brain. I wasn't going to let her interfere in our personal time any more than I had to.

An hour later, we got to the morgue. As long as Carolyn was supposed to be dead, we'd moved our base of operations to Liz's office out of convenience.

The Gorens were already there, drinking coffee and chatting with Rodgers. I couldn't help but notice a fresh lump on the side of Goren's head.

"What did you do to your head?" I asked him by way of greeting.

He tipped his head towards the two extra cups of coffee sitting on the table, so I picked them up and handed one to Carolyn.

"Wild night last night," he replied.

"Alex, what did I tell you about that? Old guys like him can't take the rough stuff," I teased.

"I think maybe that's advice for Carolyn," she retorted with a grin.

And yeah, so I'd forgotten about the bite mark on my neck, but it wasn't like I didn't expect her to have a comeback. Alex _always_ had a comeback. It was one of the things I loved about her.

And considering that her words mirrored my own thoughts from earlier, I had to laugh.

"You need to cover that thing up before you meet with Rhonda," she added.

"I'll come up with something," I assured her, but she still went to the coat rack and pulled the scarf from Goren's overcoat and tossed it to me.

"So tell us about the wild night," Carolyn said. "Unless Mike was right and it really was from…"

"No," Goren interrupted quickly with a grin.

And then he told us about their dealings with Rhonda and Archie.

"Why didn't you call us?" I asked them when they'd finished.

"We handled it," Rodgers jumped in.

She seemed proud of herself that she'd been involved in yet another aspect of the investigation. And her interjection reminded me of something else.

"By the way, how the hell did you learn to be so slick at pick pocketing?"

"Ah, Mike…I have many talents," she replied dismissively with a smile. "I could spend hours regaling you with anecdotes from my life, but really…who has the time?"

"So, today is Rhonda. And Strathmore," Goren said, getting us back on track. "But Rhonda first."

"Invite her to lunch, right?" I asked them as I got out my phone. "That should be safe enough."

"I think so," Alex agreed. "Tell her that her use of your mother's name is what got you started looking. She'll be pleased with herself that her clue-dropping was effective."

"And I should be angry about him, right?"

"About the fact that he has money," Goren stated. "Not about your mother keeping it a secret. That aspect won't score you any points. Rhonda's all about the money and manipulation, so if you're upset that he's so rich and you're not, then she'll believe that you want to help her lay claim to what's 'yours'."

"Okay," I agreed. I opened up a blank text.

"And she looked like she liked the bit about you needing her help," Carolyn added. "So I'd say that again."

So I typed it in.

_**I need your help. Lunch today at the diner at noon.**_

"She'll know which diner?" Rodgers asked.

"Yeah," I said with a nod. "I've met her there a few times. Last year when we were working the Raleigh case."

"It's a cop diner," Alex said. "Are we sure she'll show? She's still a fugitive."

"She won't be able to resist," Goren replied. "It'll be like thumbing her nose at the NYPD."

"Okay, so you're going to do lunch. We're going to go through these computer files," Alex said. "But we need put a tail on you, just in case."

"You mean in case she tries to jump my bones in the middle of a crowded diner?"

"I mean in case she has a gun or something and tries to get you to leave with her," Alex said seriously.

I'd been trying to make light but she obviously felt that it was a valid concern.

"We're going to be in a diner with dozens of cops," I argued. "What's she going to do?"

"Oh, I don't know," Carolyn retorted. "Maybe threaten someone you care about and insist that you walk out carefully without a fuss?"

She had me with that one. And I felt like crap for not seeing where the conversation was headed.

"You're right. I'm sorry," I said quickly.

"We can't afford to underestimate her again," she replied quietly. She ran her hand down my arm and kept her eyes locked on mine.

She was worried about me. And I hated to see her worried.

Damn, I needed to be brilliant today so that we could put Rhonda away in a hurry and get her the hell out of our lives.

"I know. Okay. We'll call Lupo. He can trail me and we'll let him know that if I'm leaving the diner with her, then he needs to stay with me."

So I called Ross.

"Captain, it's Logan. We need to use Lupo again today. Is he there?"

Yeah, I know, I was still calling him captain. Hell, I still thought of myself as detective half of the time, so I figured it would be years before I dropped all of the titles.

"Even though he's officially with MCS, he hasn't reported in yet," Ross replied. "He had some time coming to him, so he was going to take a couple of weeks."

"So he did last night out of the goodness of his heart?"

"That's right."

Huh. That made me like him even more.

"But he's on board with your investigation. He wants to be involved with it. He just didn't want to come into the office in the interim. I've got his cell. You can give him a call."

So I did. And a woman answered his phone.

"I'm looking for Detective Lupo," I said after hearing her sleepy hello.

"Sure. Hang on."

I heard rustling and murmured voices and then Lupo came on.

"I guess I'm catching you at a bad time," I said, unable to keep the grin from my face. "Is that the blonde from last night?"

"Logan?"

"Yeah."

"What's going on?" he asked, ignoring my question. "You guys need me?"

"Not until noon. You've got time to fix her breakfast."

"Ha," he replied humorlessly. "You're a funny guy. Noon. Where?"

I told him about the diner.

"Okay, I'll be there at eleven-thirty," he said, suddenly sounding fully awake and all business. "I won't come in, but I'll be there. There are plenty of windows in that place, so get a table in front of one. Give me everyone's numbers so I know who to call if there's trouble."

I quickly gave him the requested information.

"You guys have other research that needs to be done?" he asked.

"We're working from the morgue right now," I told him. "The Gorens were able to copy the suspect's computer files. They'll be here going through the information."

"Okay. I'll plan on coming to the morgue afterwards. I can help with the research."

"You don't have to do that," I told him. "I wouldn't want your blonde to miss you too much."

"Hey, you're not the only one who can act, Logan. And she's not blonde."

**

* * *

**

Lupo POV

I hung up the phone with Logan and rolled over in the bed. My mind was racing now, so there'd be no going back to sleep, but that was fine.

"You have to go to work?" my companion asked.

"I told you that I might. But I'll make it up to you later, I promise."

"You don't have anything to make up," she assured me. "We had last night. And we got to sleep late this morning. It was worth taking the day off."

"You're too easy on me," I replied with a smile.

"When do you have to leave?"

"I've got an hour to kill."

She grinned at me and ran her fingers through my hair.

"Well then, Lupo…I think I know the perfect way to spend the next sixty minutes."

"You know that you're the only woman who's ever called me Lupo in bed," I told her.

"Why do you think I do it?" she teased.

She leaned in close, her lips a fraction of an inch from mine, and then the phone rang again.

But this time it was her phone.

I sighed and closed my eyes as she fell back onto the bed and blindly reached toward the nightstand.

"Rubirosa," she answered.

I knew it was her boss and I tamped down the jealousy that ran through me with the knowledge that he got to work with her day in and day out.

_But I got to see her like this_, I reminded myself. So why should I be jealous?

"I took the day off," she said firmly.

And then she closed her eyes as I trailed my fingers down her stomach. I heard her suck in her breath, and I wondered if Cutter heard it too.

I hoped so.

"I can be there at noon, but not a minute sooner," she told him. Then she closed her phone and tossed it in the general direction of the nightstand before pushing on my shoulders, forcing me onto my back.

"That was just plain mean," she said without any heat as she stretched out over top of me. "That was my _boss_."

"I know," I replied with a smile.

"Lupo…"

"Connie…"

"We've got an hour. Make it count."

I did.

Then _she_ made _me_ breakfast while I took Otto out for a walk.

It all felt so domesticated that I should've been ready to run screaming, but I wasn't.

Instead, we showered and got ready for work with the rhythm of a long-married couple.

And then she went her way and I went mine, which was across the street from the diner.

I was there at eleven twenty-five.

I found a bench, pulled my cap down low on my head, and opened up today's edition of the New York Times. I held it at just the right angle so that it appeared as though I was reading, but I was actually watching over the top of the paper.

Ten minutes later, Logan went into the diner.

Good. He was early. That meant he'd be able to choose the table. I watched him go through the door and then settle into a table that was perfectly visible from my location.

I was glad that Bernard had stopped by last night after the scene at Leo's. He'd brought me a com device so that I wouldn't be doing my surveillance blind.

I'd also pumped him for a little bit of information about the others because I liked to know what kind of people I was working with. He didn't know much background either, so together, we'd looked into the group.

Aside from his exile to Staten Island years back for an incident that I would've given him a medal for, Logan had pretty much kept his nose clean. Mostly. The cops who mattered all gave him high praise.

I vaguely recalled the name Carolyn Barek from my days with Intelligence. She had been a star with the Bureau for a brief period of time, but word on the street was that she wasn't a team player. I knew how to read between the lines. All that meant was that she didn't like the politics or the paperwork that went along with the Bureau. I could appreciate that.

Goren was the best detective MCS had seen in years. Well, _both_ Gorens. Between the two of them, they'd amassed an arrest record that was damn near perfect. Of course, that fact was nearly overlooked by the scuttlebutt about the two partners getting married. That gossip was all the rage for awhile, but the bottom line was that they were both highly intelligent detectives.

_Investigators_, I amended. Because of the stupid rule about NYPD partners not being able to fraternize.

I was glad there was no such rule about ADAs and detectives.

Although we were still in the closet, I'd been with Connie for three months now. It was easy and comfortable, which was a new experience for me. Prior to Connie, I'd somehow always managed to find women who were too demanding.

_Like this piece of work_, I thought as I watched Rhonda stroll into the diner.

And I had no trouble recognizing her, even though I could tell that she had gone through some trouble to alter her appearance. Bernard had brought me a picture when he'd stopped by. Her hair was different and she'd attempted to downplay some of her showiness, but she still screamed predator.

I kept my eye on her as she briefly scanned the diner and then headed for Logan's table.

She gave him a kiss that had even me cringing and then she sat down opposite him in the booth.

_**"I missed you, Mikey," **_she said in a breathless voice. I noticed that he scooted back a little in his chair, and I'd bet my next paycheck that she'd just run her foot up his pant leg.

"_**Now what is it that I can do for **_**you**?" she asked suggestively.

I didn't envy his position, but it was clear that she was taking the bait.

Now it was time to sit back and see how well he could play the game.

TBC...


	32. Chapter 32

**Rhonda (aka Renee aka Addison aka Shannon) POV**

* * *

I was thrilled to see Mikey again.

I couldn't explain what it was about him that had me hooked, but I wanted him.

And not just for a scam.

I wanted him for the rest of our lives.

The possibility that he wanted me, too…well, that just made me anxious. And excited. And nervous. And…_ecstatic_.

But it wasn't all that surprising. Because I look good.

_Good, hell_…I know I'm fucking gorgeous.

From the time I was fifteen, there have only been a handful of men who were able to resist me. And even those couldn't resist for long.

Except Mikey.

And yeah, I'd had him.

_Eight times_ I'd had him.

And then he was done with me, and at first I'd thought that I was okay with that, but then I had to admit to myself that I wasn't okay with it.

I wanted him back.

And now that I'd taken care of that stupid bitch Carolyn, he was mine for the taking.

The fact that he had a brother worth tens of millions of dollars was just the icing on the cake.

I couldn't believe my luck, falling into that bit of knowledge. It was completely random.

After the third time we'd slept together, I went through his wallet while he was passed out cold. Yeah, it was a low-down and common thing to do, but I wanted to know more about him.

Because he didn't talk much. Except about _her_. I don't think he even realized how much he did it, but it drove me insane with jealousy.

But so I went through his wallet because I wanted to _know_ him. Then I could talk to him, and offer up brilliant insights that would be impressive.

He was a cop. He would like that kind of thing.

When I'd found a well-worn newspaper clipping of his mother's obituary, I'd had no idea how important that knowledge would be later on. In fact, at the time it almost got me into trouble, because I'd assumed he kept the clipping because he missed his mother. So I'd tried to strike up conversations about family stuff, hoping that he would talk about her.

But instead, it only made him angrier and more closed off.

And despite the fact that I'd hoped to get to know him better, his sullenness only got me hotter.

I mean, there's a reason why I like cops.

A lot of times cops are moody and quiet, but they're also so…passionate and forceful and…just _something _that really gets my motor running.

The only bad thing about them is that they rarely have money.

And I love money just a little bit more than I love cops.

After my fling with Mikey ended, when he'd shouted out _her_ name by mistake and then couldn't seem to live with himself for the error, well I'd just decided to be on my way.

He wasn't the only good-looking cop in the city.

But then not much more than a year later, things had gone to hell in a hand basket.

And I needed a cop who was smart and respected and yet putty in my hands.

So of course, I thought of Mikey.

Because he was a good man.

He'd never hit me or abused me in any way, and he hadn't been able to live with himself for what he'd considered to be the ultimate sin.

I thought that his feelings of guilt over calling me Carolyn might bring him back around. He'd want to make that up to me.

And truth be told, I wanted to see him again.

Because the sex with him was really, _really_ good.

And honestly, I'd had just about enough of fucking old men.

So I'd called him. And he'd met me. And brought a friend. Things were looking up for all of about two minutes when Mikey got a phone call and ditched me with the friend.

Of course, he'd been cute, too. But he'd acted like a scared rabbit, and a few minutes into our conversation, he'd spotted a friend and brought _her_ back to the table.

Was the guy blind?

Did he _not_ see how much more attractive I was than her?

Whatever. He wasn't who I wanted anyway.

But things didn't work out like I'd planned. Mikey helped the other cops build a case against me. And he rebuffed all of my advances. The man must have an iron will.

In the end, all it did was make me want him more.

And then it wasn't long before I realized that I'd hit the jackpot.

Because as I fully researched my potential benefactors, something I learned about John Strathmore rang a bell.

And not just a little tinkling bell.

A big fucking school bell.

Strathmore's mother was listed as Shannon McMahon. I knew that name. It had been in the obituary I'd looked at in Mikey's wallet.

Name of deceased – Shannon McMahon Logan.

What were the fucking odds?

Astronomical. It was a sign. I was meant to be with Mikey. And I was meant to have that money.

But I wasn't so dumb as to think that Mikey would help me. Not after that whole thing with Raleigh.

I needed to reel him in slowly.

So I gave him some time to cool off.

And then I sent him a few subtle reminders.

And then I started using Shannon Logan as an alias. Because he was a smart cop. I had no doubt that he was attempting to track me down, and once he found that alias, he would want to know why.

He would look up every bit of information that he could find on his mother. And if he was as good as I thought he was, then he'd find his brother. He'd be suitably outraged, and I could swoop in with the perfect plan for taking what was rightfully his share.

Or at least, that was my plan.

And I usually got what I wanted.

Buying the place in White Horse had been for me, not him.

For now, anyway.

He'd never find my real name, so he'd never be able to trace me to that house.

But once I had him…once he was mine for good…then we could live together in the town where his mother was born. At least until we bilked the millions from Strathmore.

And really, how poetic was that?

But first things first.

I'd teamed up with Taggart to help me get rid of the bitch. I had enough cop fuck-buddies to keep me in the loop, and I knew that Taggart had a vendetta against her. Both of them really, but mostly her.

He'd agreed easily. He said his brother would take her and do the dirty work. I wanted her kidnapped without a trace so that I could at first let Mikey believe she'd left him. Then the brother was going to kill her and dump the body in front of their house.

I knew that it would be a blow for poor Mikey, but he was tough.

He'd get over it.

Especially if I was there to help pick up the pieces.

Then _I _would be the one he leaned on, the one he depended on.

_Mine_ would be the name he yelled out in the throes of passion.

And so far, the plan was working great.

Carolyn was dead, and Mikey was coming around.

I'd thought that last night we could seal the deal, but then that stupid drunk had come out of the bar and warned us about cops coming.

And Mikey had his wallet stolen. _Was he slipping_? What kind of a cop got pick pocketed?

I thought about that for a moment as I adjusted my wig.

Someone had really stolen his wallet?

And then I thought about how that bimbo had been hanging all over him, the one he'd been planning to go home with. Hell, it was probably her. That made sense. She was too young for him anyway, so she probably was with him just to see what she could get.

I smirked a little at that thought. _A girl after my own heart_.

But she wasn't going to get Mikey.

He was mine.

I made a few last minute modifications and then checked my look in the mirror.

_Perfect. _

As though I could ever be anything else.

Mikey wanted to meet me in that diner, the one I'd met him in last year. It was a cop hangout, but they wouldn't be expecting a wanted felon to stroll into their den.

Besides, the mousy-brown wig and the housewife-style make-up would make me invisible.

I walked into the diner a few minutes early and I looked around. Mikey was already in a booth.

_He's anxious_, I thought. _He's excited to see me, too._

I hoped he wouldn't be turned off by my disguise, so just in case, I leaned over and kissed him thoroughly. I wanted him to remember every second of every encounter we'd ever had.

Reluctantly, I pulled back and then sat down across from him.

I'd mentally debated sitting next to him where I could run my hand over his thigh, but then I decided that sitting across from him would be better. My foot would have access to all of the good parts, and yet it would be more subtle and teasing.

I had no doubt that I could get him worked up.

"I missed you, Mikey," I told him in a hushed voice. I slipped my foot out of its shoe and slid my foot underneath his pant leg.

"Now what is it that I can do for _you_?" I asked. My words were innocent enough but my tone was clearly suggesting that sexual favors were foremost on my mind.

"I found out that I have a brother," he said, and I was surprised that he was so quick to admit it.

"A brother?"

"I think you found him, too, didn't you?"

"Maybe."

"That's why you used my mother's name. You led me to him."

I felt a moment of slight panic as I tried to determine his mood.

Was he angry? Were a band of cops going to stand up and arrest me at any moment?

Was my game over?

And then he reached across the table and grabbed my hand.

"I can't thank you enough for that," he said quietly. "I need you to help me get what's mine."

I began to breathe again, thrilled not only with his words, but by the touch of his hand.

_God, I'd missed him._

"You mean…the money?" I asked innocently.

He looked around the room carefully and then leaned across the table, keeping my hand in his.

"My whole life, I never had a dime. And yet my mother's other son wipes his ass with hundred dollar bills. How is that fair?"

The intensity in his eyes and voice was just about doing me in. I wanted to lay him out on the table right here in the diner. I was so turned on that I could hardly focus.

"It's not," I managed to say. "It's not fair at all."

"I want that money," he said firmly. "And I think you can help me get it."

"You think?" I asked, trying desperately to regain my control. "Honey, I know I can help you get it. I was just waiting for you to say the word."

"I'm saying it now."

I held his gaze and I wished for the hundredth time that this damn table wasn't between us. The color of his eyes, the passion they contained…it was tying my insides in knots.

I'd been right all along.

He was the one.

And if together we could get even half of Strathmore's money…we could leave New York and live out our lives on a beach somewhere.

If this thing worked, I would never run another scam.

But I had to be careful. Not so long ago, Mikey had tried to get me arrested.

"Why now?" I asked him.

"Look at my life," he said sadly. "Everything I thought I knew…"

He trailed off and closed his eyes, and I could tell how painful his words were for him.

"I thought Carolyn loved me, and I was so distraught over her death, and then I found out that…that she was…cheating on me. And with my best friend. So not only have I lost her, but him too. So now I've got nothing."

"Oh, Mikey…you've got me, honey. I'm here for you."

"I just want to get away from here," he told me, meeting my gaze again. "I want to get away from this city and never come back."

A shot of excitement went through me at the realization that his dream was the same as mine.

_We really could go away together_.

"Let's get out of here," I whispered. "Take me home with you, and I'll help make your pain go away, I promise."

He nodded at me slightly and leaned further across the table. I closed my eyes in anticipation of his kiss, and then I heard his phone ring.

"Damn, sugar, I'm sorry," he said as he sat back and pulled the phone from his pocket. I watched him as he read a text message. "I need…to um…I've got to get back to work."

"Work? Do you have to?"

"Yeah. I don't want to," he sighed. Then he lowered his voice and said softly, "Believe me, I _don't_ want to. But I'm in the middle of several cases right now."

"Can't Bullwinkle do it?" I asked him in frustration. I knew he worked with that big detective I'd met last year. Surely he was competent enough to handle things for the afternoon.

"Goren…" he began, shaking his head. And then it hit me.

"Goren was the friend? The one who was with Carolyn?"

He closed his eyes and nodded slowly. My heart broke for him again.

"I have to finish things up," he said firmly. Then he brought my hand to his lips and kissed the knuckles. "But sugar, the sooner we can get what's coming to me, then we can get out of here, okay? No more work. Just you and me, on a sunny beach somewhere."

"I don't remember it being this hard to get you out of your pants," I pouted. I knew he needed to go, but damn…I _wanted_ him. "Can we meet tonight?"

"I think so. Let me see how the afternoon goes. Can I call you?"

"Definitely," I told him.

I watched him as he stood from the table, my eyes lingering over the way his slacks clung to him in all the right places.

"Rhonda," he said as he leaned towards me again. "I want this Strathmore guy. You can help me, right?"

"I can help," I promised.

"Good," he whispered, now only inches from my lips. "I want you, too. Can you help me with that?"

"I can definitely help you with that."

He kissed me softly and then stood back up.

"I think we're going to make a good team," he told me with a wink. "I'll call you tonight."

I watched him walk to the front of the diner, my gaze glued to his ass the entire time. He'd gotten me all stirred up without hardly trying.

I vaguely considered picking up one of the other cops in the room, just so that I could vent some of my sexual frustration, but then I decided to wait.

If I had to stew about it all day, it would make it that much better tonight.

TBC...


	33. Chapter 33

**A/N: An extra one again today, just for my friend. But everyone can read it :) **

**Lupo POV**

* * *

I'd made contact with the Gorens while I was watching the scene unfold.

I wanted to know if they'd been able to obtain any useful information that might help Logan worm his way into this sick woman's good graces.

It wasn't going to be hard, but surely she was still a little wary.

My phone buzzed to indicate an incoming text message.

_**She wants to run away with him. We found bookmarked ads for land for sale in Mexico.**_

I replied.

_**How do we know she wants him to come too?**_

In a minute, I had my answer.

_**Call it a hunch. She's using the name Renee Logan. **_

Good point.

She wouldn't resort to using her real first name unless she was done scamming.

And to use it in conjunction with Logan's last name…well, she wouldn't do that if there was a possibility that he would still be looking for her.

So either she wanted to kill him…

_Which I doubted since I'd seen the way she'd just kissed him_.

…Or she wanted to marry him.

So I decided to trust the hunch.

I passed on that little tidbit to Logan. I was curious to see what he would do with it.

But I had to admit to being pretty impressed with him.

He really had her going. She was completely buying into his act, and if I didn't know better, I'd have been buying it too.

I could also see why he didn't want his wife on spy-duty. A visual like this would be tough to shake, much less the addition of the smooth words and suggestive tones.

"_**Honey, I know I can help you get it,"**_ I heard her tell him. _**"I was just waiting for you to say the word."**_

"_**I'm saying it now."**_

Damn, this guy was good. Maybe too good. She wasn't going to want to sit in that diner all day. She was going to want to leave with him.

I continued to listen while the back of my mind worked on a plan.

"_**Look at my life**_," he was saying. "_**Everything I thought I knew…"**_

I thought it was a nice touch to throw in that Carolyn had been cheating on him with his best friend. It made him even more vulnerable, and it made it more plausible that he'd be willing to take a huge risk in order to start over somewhere else.

"_**Oh, Mikey…you've got me, honey. I'm here for you."**_

And yep, she bought it.

"_**Let's get out of here,"**_ she said in a voice so soft that I was straining to hear it.

Okay, this was it. He couldn't put her off. Not without a good reason. And if he appeared as though he was willing, then all the better.

"_**Take me home with you, and I'll help make your pain go away, I promise."**_

"Say yes," I told him quickly as my fingers flew over the keys on my cell phone.

The text had to appear to be real on the off-chance that she would look at it.

_**Levinson case has to be wrapped up today or they're not going to pay.**_

Rhonda might not understand a work commitment, but she would understand money.

I hit send and then watched as Logan looked at her. I could only imagine that his heart was pounding. I could appreciate that it sucked to be unfamiliar with the one who was watching your back.

What he didn't know about me was that I'd learned the hard way what it meant to be a good partner. I'd been a bad one once.

But that would never, ever happen again.

_Buzz, damn it_, I said. _Of all times to have unreliable cell service._

But then I let out a sigh of relief as Logan apologized and sat back in the booth, pulling out his phone.

"_**I need…to um…I've got to get back to work."**_

"_**Work? Do you have to?"**_

He had her completely. She hadn't even looked like she wanted to double check the text. She fully believed that he needed to go to work. Of course, his acting didn't hurt, but still…

"_**Can't Bullwinkle do it?**_" I heard her ask, and I bit back a chuckle.

Bullwinkle? She had to mean Goren. And Logan letting her believe that Goren was the philandering friend was a stroke of genius. More sympathy points, because it allowed her to put a face with the sin.

He rounded out the conversation nicely, using a hint of future possibilities, and the promise of a phone call.

As he walked to the front of the diner, he spoke to me through his mike.

"Is she following?"

"You're clear. Did you drive?"

"No. Subway."

"I'll watch her for another minute," I told him. "Go left when you come out, three blocks down, and then right for one block. Get in the black Charger."

"Got it. Thanks for the life preserver," he commented as I watched him leave the diner and begin following my instructions. "For a minute there I thought I was going to have to fake an attack of appendicitis."

I chuckled at him, having no doubt that he'd have pulled that off as well.

"No problem, my friend," I told him. "I'll be there in five minutes."

I kept an eye on Rhonda another minute, but then I saw that she was ordering lunch.

She wasn't going to try to follow him.

She believed him.

I got up from the park bench and walked casually down the street to my car.

"Nice ride," Logan remarked when I climbed in behind the wheel.

"Thanks," I replied. I started up the car and headed for the morgue. "That woman's a real piece of work."

"You're telling me."

I reached in the console and got out a pack of breath mints.

"Need something to get the taste out of your mouth?" I asked wryly. Not everyone cared for my sense of humor, but it was usually best to find out sooner rather than later.

"Got anything stronger?" he replied.

"Liquor?"

"I was thinking bleach."

I barked out a laugh, but I noticed that he did take the mints from me and he popped a few in his mouth before giving the pack back to me.

"So it's working as you hoped, huh?" I asked him.

"Seems like it."

"Do we have a plan for nailing her?"

"_We_?" he asked skeptically.

And I didn't blame him. I was the outsider. Two instances of surveillance didn't make me part of the team.

"I'm in if you want me," I offered.

"You sure you know what you're getting yourself into?" he asked.

"Um…money hungry psychopathic bitch who's been stalking you and your wife. She managed to arrange to supposedly take your wife out of the picture and now she wants to use you to scam millions from a man whom she figured out was your previously unknown half-brother…does that about sum it up?"

"Close enough," he said with a shrug. "But I have to warn you. We have a tendency to find trouble."

"Then I'm a perfect fit," I answered.

"You may not have much time for your blonde," he added.

I noticed out of the corner of my eye that he'd finally turned his head toward me instead of looking out the window as he'd been doing up until now.

He was loosening up.

"She and I do just fine with two busy schedules," I assured him. Connie worked long hours, too. It only seemed to serve to encourage us to make good use of the time we had together.

And I wasn't going to tell Logan about Connie, but for some reason it bugged me that he thought I'd picked up the woman from the bar, so for the second time in only a few hours, I felt the urge to add, "And she's not blonde."

**

* * *

**

Bobby POV

I was only mildly surprised to see Logan come into the morgue with Lupo on his heels.

I'd checked Lupo out.

He was my kind of detective.

The rules didn't always matter as long as the end result was just.

And I knew that Lupo was dedicated, so the taste of the hunt from tailing Logan last night and today would've piqued his curiosity.

And since he had time on his hands over the next two weeks, it was a no-brainer that he would want to join our little band of misfits.

"Detective Lupo," Liz greeted him. "You just can't stay away from my morgue, can you?"

"It's the hospitality that brings me back," he teased.

I wanted to ask immediately about the meeting, but Mike had gone straight to Carolyn and pulled her into a hug.

My guess was that it had gone well.

So I gave him a minute to regain his balance, and instead I turned to Lupo. But before I could introduce myself, he spoke up, "The infamous Detectives Goren and Goren."

"Investigators now," I reminded him as I shook his hand. "And by infamous, you mean…"

"Stellar solve rate. Liked to butt heads with the brass. Took down Moran," he clarified.

"So you checked us out," Alex commented.

"I did," he admitted with a slow nod. "And I'm sure you did the same."

"Well, we weren't going to let just anyone keep an eye on Mike," Alex told him. "So you're in this for the long haul?"

"Looks like," he agreed casually. "We need a show and tell session. I'll let Logan tell you his version of the meeting today, but I also need to catch up with what you guys know. Did you have time to go through her files?"

"A lot of them. We made good headway," Alex told him. "But there was a ton of information."

"I'm good with computers," he offered. "And I've got a lot of friends. Use me."

"I hate to break up this love fest," Liz interrupted. "But I've got another body to look at. Let me know if you need me for anything."

She slipped out of her office and into the autopsy room.

"It doesn't creep you guys out being down here?" Lupo asked with a cautious smile.

"No, not at all," I said at the same time that Alex said, "You get used to it."

"Did they set up another meeting?" Alex asked Lupo.

"No," Logan answered as he rejoined the group. He quickly introduced Carolyn to Lupo and then continued, "I told her that I'd call her tonight. But we need to have a solid plan. If it weren't for Lupo sending a text that I needed to go into work, I was going to have to fake an illness. She's getting antsy."

"Maybe faking an illness isn't such a bad idea," I suggested thoughtfully.

"How exactly is that going to work?" Mike asked.

"I'm still organizing the details in my head. I'm not sure yet."

"Maybe not, but I think you're onto something," Lupo said. "It'll be a way to keep her close without having to sample the goods."

"So what happened in the diner" Alex asked.

Logan filled us in while Lupo interjected random observances and praise for how Mike had handled the situation.

I kept an inconspicuous eye on Carolyn, but she seemed okay with the whole thing. Not thrilled, obviously, but overall okay.

"We found that Rhonda's looking for property in Mexico using the name Renee Logan," I told Mike when he finished. "This is her end game. She wants you, she wants the money, and then the two of you are going to get the hell out of dodge."

"So when are we meeting with this Strathmore guy?" Lupo asked.

"Alex and I are going down there next."

"I'm coming, too," Mike said quickly.

He met my eye and stared at me challengingly, as though he expected me to argue. I didn't want to fight about it.

But I also didn't want him to go.

"Let us go first," I told him.

"Tell me why," he replied.

And I appreciated his restraint. He was willing to listen. If I had a reason other than being overprotective, then he might go along with it.

"Because if you walk in that place, you're going to freak him out," Alex spoke up.

"Why?" Lupo asked curiously. Alex pulled out a file and removed a photo of Strathmore, laying it out on the table in front of Lupo. "Holy shit," he muttered.

"See what I mean?" Alex remarked as Lupo continued to stare at the picture.

"Yeah," he answered. "If you go in there, it's going to put him on the defensive."

"What?" Logan asked. "Why?"

"This guy's a big business man worth millions, right?"

At the sight of multiple nods, he continued.

"He's going to be thinking scam. He's going to be thinking scandal. He's going to be closing up ranks to protect what he has from someone who looks enough like him to potentially cause him some kind of damage," Lupo stated.

And maybe it was best that it came from him. They were my words, closely enough so that it was as if I'd written them for him myself.

But Lupo was an essential outsider. Mike was more likely to believe that it was best for the good of the investigation if it came from him.

If I'd said it, he would still think I was being protective.

But now that it was out there, I elaborated.

"Alex and I will go. We're investigators. We're looking into a swindler who has possibly approached him. All we want to know right now is how far she's gotten her foot in the door."

"The notes she has on Strathmore on her computer don't mention that she's even seen him in person," Alex continued. "She mentions not being able to get past the secretary. But we don't know for sure how up-to-date the notes are."

"So you're just going to talk to him and get a feel for what he knows about Rhonda," Mike stated.

"Right," I agreed.

"You're not going to try to find out if he's an asshole or not. Or if he knows that I exist, or if he even cares."

"Mike," Carolyn spoke up. "They're trying to do their jobs. You would do the same thing."

"I know," he said, shaking his head.

I knew this was hard on him, and it was difficult for me to see him struggling, especially when he'd been doing so well lately.

I also didn't want to admit it, but I was nervous about meeting Strathmore.

And I was ambivalent.

What if he was some jerk who had known about Mike all along but never had any interest in meeting him?

What if he wasn't?

What if he was a great guy, the quintessential brother whom Mike had been missing his whole life?

And then I felt like an ass for dreading that possibility.

Who was I to begrudge Mike having a little more family? Real family.

A brother with whom he shared a mother rather than just a fellow product of a less than savory upbringing.

"Goren," Mike said, and I hadn't realized until he said my name that I'd been swamped in my own head.

I was more afraid than I'd thought.

I slowly brought my eyes to his.

"You're right," he continued. "Talk to him. Once we can establish what he knows then we'll go from there. And whatever character insights you can provide will just make it that much easier when I go back later to meet him."

"Are you sure? It's your brother," I managed to say. "I'm not going to keep you from going."

"We'll stay here and finish going through these files," Mike said firmly. "Nearly five decades have gone by. Another day or two isn't going to change anything."

TBC...


	34. Chapter 34

**Alex POV**

* * *

Bobby was quiet for most of the drive into Jersey.

In the old days that would've bothered me quite a bit. I would've been afraid that he was closing in on himself and shutting me out. I might've been inclined to poke at him and try to get a response, whether it be good or bad just so long as it was _something_.

But now the silence didn't seem so bad. He was simply thinking. And when he was ready to put those thoughts into words, then he would.

And in the mean time, he held my hand, randomly stroking his thumb over my knuckles.

I knew that this whole brother thing was getting to him more than he cared to admit. He and Mike had established that role for each other, and now a stranger was getting into the game. It was tough to swallow and it surely made Bobby feel like a bit of an outsider again.

But I knew Mike well enough to be comfortable with his loyalty to Bobby.

It was nearly four o'clock when I found a parking space down the block from the address that we'd found for the headquarters of Malloy Enterprises.

I thought it was telling and yet somewhat odd that Strathmore would name his business after his stepfather. I hoped that meant Malloy had been a good father. That seemed to fit everything else that we knew about him, considering that he'd raised John himself even knowing that the boy was another man's son.

I also knew from my research that Strathmore had built the company of Malloy Enterprises himself.

True, it was from money left to him by his birth father, but I was encouraged by the fact that he hadn't just sat back and spent his millions.

In fact, he'd nearly tripled it over the past three decades.

That much money made me a little nervous.

I'd never had aspirations of being rich.

I'd always just wished for happiness.

I cut off the engine and turned to Bobby, whose leg seemed to be bouncing on its own accord.

"Are you okay?" I asked him quietly.

"I'm fine. Let's go."

I made no move to unbuckle, but instead kept my eyes on his face until he finally looked at me.

"I'm fine," he said again. "I have you. That's all I need," he added with a smile.

"Bobby," I said softly. "Do you really think that Mike would ditch you for some blue blood society boy?"

"You make it sound like we're dating," he teased.

"You know what I'm saying," I said firmly. "You've said it yourself. It's not about DNA. And maybe this guy will be worth getting to know. Maybe he won't. But either way, it won't change things between you and Mike."

"I know," he admitted on a sigh. "I don't know why it's bothering me so much."

"Because we've felt settled lately," I remarked. "We got married, we got a place together, we have a good job, and good friends. Now you think that maybe this guy has the power to change some of that. If he's a good guy, maybe Mike won't need you. And he's got money, so then maybe Mike won't need the business anymore. But think about that for a minute."

I wasn't in any hurry to get out of the car, so I waited for another minute in quiet.

"You're right. I'm jumping the gun here," he said at last. "It's just that…"

"He means a lot to you," I supplied when he hesitated.

"Yes."

"Then let's do right by him and go meet this half-brother. If he turns out to be a jerk, I'll kick his ass."

"How come you always get to do the ass-kicking?" he asked, flashing me the smile that I'd been waiting for.

"Because I'm good at it."

We got out of the car and walked into the swanky lobby of a large building that sat along the edge of the water.

"Can I help you?" a twenty-something receptionist chirped out as we crossed the marble floor.

"We're here to see Mr. Strathmore," Bobby said smoothly, now fully back in work mode.

I hung back a little and let him turn on the charm. The poor girl wouldn't stand a chance.

"Do you have an appointment?"

"No, but we only need a few minutes of his time."

"I understand sir, but everyone likes a few minutes of his time. It's just not possible," she replied in a false cheery tone.

Okay, so she was tougher than I'd initially given her credit for.

It was time to pull out the big guns.

Figuratively, of course.

I stepped up beside Bobby and together we pulled out our credentials.

"Miss, we're private investigators and are looking into a matter that potentially concerns your boss. If you could let him know that we're here, we'd be happy to wait until he can give us a few minutes."

"Have a seat," she said after eyeing our IDs. "I'll see what I can do."

So we sat on the plush sofa. And we probably sat closer than what was professional, but we didn't have to answer to anyone but ourselves, so what did it matter?

"Just think," I said quietly. "If he's nice, you and Mike can include him in your poker games. Think how much fun it'll be to bluff a millionaire out of his cash."

Bobby chuckled quietly, but I knew that he was already considering the possibilities. He loved playing cards. The tells, the bluffing…it was a veritable field day for him.

After ten minutes, the receptionist cleared her throat. We looked over at her in unison, and she gave us another fake smile.

"I'm sorry, but Mr. Strathmore is unavailable. He said that if you would like to set up an appointment, he'd be happy to see you then."

She started flipping through a large calendar book and I began thinking that if we had to wait until tomorrow then maybe we could spend the night at a nice Atlantic City hotel.

And then she looked back up at us.

"He has an opening on the third."

"Of February?" I asked. That was another two weeks away.

"March," she clarified.

I looked at Bobby and together we got up and approached the desk again.

"I don't think you understand the urgency," Bobby told her. "We're trying not to involve the Atlantic City Police, but if we have to, we'll call them out here so that we can insist on a meeting."

I was really starting not to like Strathmore and I hadn't even met him yet. But on the flip side, I had to appreciate his foresight at hiring an iron maiden to guard his gate.

"Oh, well if this is a police matter, then you'd probably better call them. We wouldn't want any appearance of impropriety."

"Miss…" I began, and then trailed off when I couldn't find a name plate on her desk.

"It's Jessica," she informed me. "And using my name won't endear you to me. Believe me, I know all of the tricks."

"Get him on the phone," I said firmly, pinning her with my glare. "And you tell him that this is in regards to Shannon McMahon."

"And she is…"

"It's personal business," I replied with a smile, mocking her annoying tone.

I held her gaze until she finally picked up the phone. She spoke in a hushed tone, her eyes never leaving mine.

"Ma'am," she began condescendingly after ending her conversation. "Mr. Strathmore states that his mother passed fifty years ago. If you have some kind of debt to collect you can either leave it with me, or come to the appointment on March 3rd."

"This is not about a debt," Bobby said in frustration. I put my hand on his arm and leaned in closer to the secretary.

"That's fine," I told her. "Thank you for your time."

"So…the third?"

"It won't be necessary."

We turned to leave, but then I whipped around suddenly and pulled a photo out of my jacket pocket. I'd startled her somewhat, which had been my intent.

"Have you ever seen this woman?" I asked forcefully, shoving the picture across the receptionist's desk. It was a 5x7 shot of Rhonda Hagen.

As hoped, my movements had shaken the girl slightly, which tended to promote honesty.

"Actually, yes. I have," she admitted. "It's been awhile. About a year, I think."

"You saw her once?" Bobby asked. "A year ago, and you remember her?"

"It's my job to remember names and faces, Mr. Goren," she replied smugly.

Perceptive girl. She'd remembered our names from her earlier perusal of our PI licenses.

"So what name did she use?" I asked, tapping the picture.

"Addison Hooper," she said quickly. And then she smiled again and looked pointedly at me. "But she didn't make it to the elevator either."

"She never met with Mr. Strathmore?"

"Not to my knowledge. Not here."

"Okay," I told her with a smile. I put the picture back into my pocket. "Thank you."

We left the building and turned the corner towards the car, but then stopped on the sidewalk.

"You gave up awfully easily," he remarked in confusion.

"I haven't given up on anything," I answered. "Rhonda did enough stalking to give us what we need."

Bobby paused for a moment, but then he smiled and nodded as he remembered the same tidbit from the files that I was thinking of.

"Car service picks him up out front at promptly five o'clock on Wednesdays," he recited from memory.

"Exactly. And it's four-thirty. I'm game for waiting in the car for thirty minutes until he comes out. Are you?"

So we went back to the car and I moved it to a parking spot that had a good view of the front entrance, and then we waited.

"I'm sure Rhonda tried this, too," Bobby said quietly.

And that was true. We needed to have a good plan to get the man to talk to us.

"There's the car," I commented as a long black sedan pulled up in front of the building. It was ten minutes before five. The driver got out of the car and walked around to the passenger side, and then leaned against the door.

"Rhonda would've gone for subtle," I said. "So we need to go after him hard."

"You think Rambo there has a gun?"

"Probably," I agreed, smirking a little at Bobby's description of the buff yet fifty-ish looking driver. No way was he simply a driver. He doubled as a body guard.

"Did you bring your badge?" he asked me mischievously.

"Of course. Did you?"

He nodded.

"Okay, so we get out and try to get his attention. If Rambo moves wrong, we flash our badges," I said.

"Right. I'll go for the driver's side door to make sure that he doesn't just get in and take off. You go toward Strathmore."

"Do you want me to get his jewelry or just go for the wallet?" I teased.

Bobby barked out a laugh but then stopped quickly when we saw the front door of the building come open and Mike's doppelganger came out onto the sidewalk.

We both hopped out and rushed toward the black sedan.

"Mr. Strathmore!" I called out. "I just need a minute."

He held up his hand and shook his head.

"She told me she was twenty-one," he replied in annoyance. "What am I supposed to do, check her ID?"

His response threw me off guard so much that I nearly stopped in my tracks. But I held it together, and moved in closer to the car just as Rambo was opening the door.

Bobby was in position at the driver's side, and managed to look ominous as he directed his stare over the top of the car, straight at Rambo.

The driver made a move toward his jacket pocket that had me a little nervous, so I glanced at Bobby quickly, and together we did a rapid flash of the badges.

"It'll only take a second," I insisted.

Strathmore looked at me carefully, finally stopping his movements. Rambo put a hand on my arm, but as I shook him loose, Strathmore acquiesced.

"Do you have a warrant?"

"No. Just a few questions."

He nodded and motioned toward the open door of the car.

"I have an appointment. You can ride with me and we'll talk in the car. It's the best I can do right now."

I looked at Bobby again, who had positioned himself directly behind Rambo when the man had touched me, and he nodded slightly.

"Okay, let's go," I agreed.

"Show me those badges again," Rambo said as his boss got into the backseat.

_Shit_.

"Rocco, they're fine," Strathmore said. I nearly laughed out loud when I heard the driver's name. Rambo, Rocco. We were pretty close.

Rocco eyed us carefully as we climbed into the car, me first followed by Bobby. Then the driver closed the door and went around the front of the car before climbing in and putting the car into gear.

As I sat across from Strathmore in the spacious backseat of the sedan, I couldn't help but stare because even though the photo had been fairly accurate, it was still just a photo. It was different to finally see him in person.

First off, I noticed his eyes. Strathmore's were dark brown while Mike's were an ever-changing and indeterminate color.

But that was it.

The differences ended there.

"I didn't catch your names," he said stiffly.

And okay, so the voice was slightly different. Strathmore spoke with a high society accent. No hint of Brooklyn at all.

"Alex Goren," I told him quickly, reaching across to shake his hand, and then Bobby introduced himself, too.

"And which police department are you with?"

"We're actually private investigators."

My declaration caused Strathmore to chuckle humorlessly.

"A husband and wife investigation team. How Hollywood. You two are the ones who gave Jessica a hard time."

"I think you have that backwards," I replied. "We asked for a few minutes, and she offered us an appointment in six weeks."

"I'm a busy man. And you have about seven more minutes before I reach my destination at which point this meeting will be over and you can find your own way back to your vehicle."

I was torn in my assessment. He was kind of being an ass, and yet he had allowed us into the car with him.

With his kind of money, he likely had people coming out of the woodwork on a daily basis trying to get him to fund this project or donate to that cause. Not to mention the women who would be after him. I glanced at his left hand and found it clean of jewelry. The files hadn't mentioned a spouse, but it was worth a look.

"We're trying to find out if you've met with this woman," I stated, once again pulling the picture from my pocket.

"Yes," he said in surprise. "She attended a museum opening last spring."

"You remember that she was in attendance?" Bobby questioned. "Surely there were hundreds of people there."

"She offered me her room key," he clarified. "Three times."

"You turned her down?"

"She's not exactly my type."

"Which type is that?" I asked sarcastically, remembering his comment on the sidewalk. "Someone less than half your age?"

He glared at me for a minute in a supposed attempt at intimidation, but I didn't back down. If he was a cliché who chased after women in their teens and low twenties just because he had money, then I wanted to know. I wanted Mike to know. I wanted to be able to share every detail I could garner.

"My type is someone interested in me for me and not for my money," he retorted. "It's tough to distinguish the difference sometimes, but I had no trouble seeing the motivation in that one."

"Do you remember her name?"

"What does this have to do with my mother? You told Jessica that you wanted to talk with me about Shannon McMahon. Was that just to throw me off?"

"No," Bobby told him. "This is all related."

Strathmore looked at the photo again and then back at Bobby.

"Please do not tell me that this woman is my sister."

I nearly choked at the implication, but instead emphatically shook my head.

"You said your mother died fifty years ago," Bobby began. "What would make you suspect that the woman in the photo is your sister? She's obviously younger than fifty."

"I…had…my doubts," he replied hesitantly.

"That your mother was dead?"

He nodded, but didn't offer additional information. The car pulled to a stop in front of a nondescript building.

"Mr. Strathmore, you'll be late," his driver said.

"Who is this woman?" Strathmore asked us, making no move to get out of the car.

"She's a con artist," I told him. "You were right to be suspicious of her. She is definitely after your money."

"_Is_? This happened nearly a year ago."

"Let's say that she has since regrouped," Bobby said. "You aren't her only target. She has successfully managed to steal millions from several other men."

"Most of whom are now dead," I added.

I wanted him to be worried and to take us seriously. And besides, it was the truth. Even the ones who were still listed as missing were more than likely now deceased.

"Should I be concerned?" he asked carefully.

"Not necessarily, but you definitely need to be apprised of the full situation."

"Mr. Strathmore," Rocco said again.

Strathmore checked his watch and then looked at us again, and I knew that we had him. His curiosity was piqued and he wasn't so pompous as to think that he was untouchable.

"Are you in town for the night?"

"We can be."

"I'll put you up in one of my hotels. My meeting will be over in a couple of hours. I'll meet you in the hotel restaurant for dinner at seven-thirty."

Bobby and I looked at each other and after silently agreeing to the terms, we each gave him a nod.

"But you need to tell me everything that's going on. And if I think that the police need to be informed, then I will call them."

"Fair enough," I agreed, hoping that we could convince him otherwise. But I could appreciate his position.

"Rocco, take them back to their car and give them directions to the Towers," he said to his driver as he climbed out of the car.

Then he looked back at us, and I could see the concern on his face.

We'd flustered the unflappable.

Of course, we did have a knack for doing that.

"I'll make the arrangements for your room," he added. "They'll be expecting you."

With that, he closed the door and disappeared into the building. Bobby and I rode in silence back to our car.

Once Rocco gave us directions to the nearby Malloy Towers Hotel, we got into our car and each of us took a deep breath.

"So, what did you think?" I asked him.

"I don't hate him."

TBC...


	35. Chapter 35

**Carolyn POV**

* * *

Mike was quiet for most of the afternoon.

I knew that he was anxious to get a report from Alex and Bobby.

I also knew that his lunch time meeting had been tough on him.

Most everyone was feeling sorry for me. I was the one whose husband had to pretend to have a sexual interest in another woman.

What everyone forgot was that _Mike_ was the one doing the pretending. His job was much harder than mine.

He had to forget that she was a killer.

He had to tolerate her relentless pawing and groping.

As much as I hated to think about it happening, I knew that he hated it even more.

Because I only had to watch it. He had to live it.

All afternoon I'd been mentally debating the merits of just going to her apartment and blowing her head off.

Then we wouldn't need to worry about evidence.

Then she'd just be dead.

And yeah, I'd probably go to prison. But I could plead post-traumatic stress and get a fairly light sentence.

And Mike would never again have to worry about Rhonda.

"Whatever you're thinking, it's probably not a good idea."

I startled and pulled my gaze from my husband to the source of the comment.

Detective Lupo.

I glanced quickly across the room again, but saw that Mike was still engrossed in a file, so I turned back toward Lupo and kept my voice low.

"You don't have any idea what I'm thinking," I countered.

"Ah, but see, I do," he insisted. "We know where she lives. You could go there and put a bullet in her brain and even if you got caught, you'd probably get off with no time."

I masked my surprise at his accuracy, and instead scoffed at him mildly.

"Shows how much you know," I said. "I figured I'd do at least five years."

"You were a cop for too long to believe that vigilante justice is a good idea."

"You don't know what it's like to watch the same woman continually stay out of reach."

"I know something about that."

"Because your wife had a stalker who wanted to kill you and take your place?" I asked harshly. "Oh, no wait. You're not even married. So I appreciate your concern, Detective Lupo, but you don't know shit."

I turned back to the computer and silently willed him to go away.

I knew that I was being unfair to him, and obviously I knew that he was right, but that didn't make me any less bitter about it.

"I almost killed a perp once."

I turned around to face him again upon hearing his nearly-whispered confession.

"Almost?"

"I wanted to," he told me. "He was submissive. And he was unarmed. And I _still_ almost did it."

"Why?"

"When I was new on the job, I had a bit of a drinking problem. Personal stuff that bled over into work. Long story," he said dismissively. "Anyway, I was hung over one day on a shift, and I fell asleep. My partner was killed while I slept."

"And you caught the guy?"

"I did. After four months of chasing after him and having him continually slip from my grasp. And I thought that I could end my misery by taking his life. I thought that it would somehow make up for everything that had happened."

"But you stopped."

"My new partner stopped me. We arrested the guy and he got twenty-five to life at Sing Sing. I go to his parole hearings every year just to make sure he does his time."

I hadn't heard his story, which surprised me. I found it hard to believe that the department rumor mill had missed that one, although Lupo had to be around my age so it had probably happened nearly twenty years ago.

We all most definitely had a past.

"It's not the same," I replied, although my tone was softer than my words.

"Different situation prompting a similar response. I know the look when I see it."

"So what am I supposed to do?" I asked in frustration. "Just sit back while this woman tramples over our lives? I didn't even hear what happened at the diner today, but I can see the stress on his face."

"We'll catch her. There are too many smart minds on this not to. We'll set the trap and we'll catch her," he said calmly. "And then she'll go to prison, and you'll go to the parole board hearings."

"I know," I sighed. "I know you're right."

"I know you know," he replied with a smile. He touched my shoulder briefly and then started to walk away, but then he stopped and looked back at me.

"But that doesn't mean that you pass up the chance if you get it," he said firmly. "If she's armed…"

"If she's armed, I'll take her out."

**

* * *

**

Logan POV

"Thanks," I muttered to Lupo when he walked over to where I was sitting.

"For what?"

"She's getting frustrated."

"You were listening?"

"I may not look like the sharpest knife in the drawer, but…"

"Hey, I didn't say that. And I certainly don't think that. I just thought I was being a little more subtle."

"I guess I've been attuned to her this afternoon. I'm waiting for her to blow. She's been holding it back for the past few hours."

"You mean her aggravation with this case?"

"The case, the jealousy, the kidnapping…you name it. It's been a bitch of a week."

"I hear you," he replied thoughtfully.

"Anything on Sims' phone yet?" I asked him.

The Gorens had confiscated it from the 6-9 last night, and then had sent a text message to Rhonda from Archie stating that his mom was sick and so he had to go visit her in Florida for a few days.

So far, she had yet to respond.

Lupo had been going through the phone's call logs and text messages for anything enlightening.

"Nothing. I don't think this guy was much more than her eyes and ears."

"And he shot up my front door," I reminded him. "Are we sure he's not getting a phone call? The last time a captain promised us solitary, it backfired."

"Bernard went and talked to him this morning. Sims and the captain, both. There's a deal in place to consider re-instatement if Sims cooperates fully with the investigation and serves his time for the discharge of a firearm into an occupied residence."

"He could get his badge back?"

"He could get some kind of work with the department," he clarified. "He won't be walking a beat again."

I was okay with that. The guy had gotten caught up in Rhonda's web. It wasn't a hard thing to do.

"What about you?" he asked, tipping his head toward the stack of papers next to me. "Progress?"

I'd been trying to piece together the full extent of Rhonda's crimes.

There were several men who were in her files but were currently unaccounted for.

If I had to guess, I'd say they were dead, but no one had found a body and no one had reported them missing. The only way we knew anything was going on was the fact that their bank records were in her possession, and over the course of a few months' time, the balances had gone from incredible to negligible.

"It's slow going, but once we turn all of this over and have corresponding audio tape of her describing her plans, then the DA should have no trouble."

"Where do you think she's keeping all of the money? There's no way she's going through it that fast."

"She's got to have another name that we don't know about. That has to be it. I thought we had it when we found Renee Yoder, but the accounts in her name are modest. She paid her bills and made mundane purchases."

"And deposited money from where? She hasn't earned a paycheck in quite some time, right?"

I nodded and pulled out the statements on Renee Yoder.

"I'm not sure," I admitted. Lupo leaned over my shoulder and together we scanned the documents.

"Regular deposits. Every two weeks."

"Cash," I stated, noting the code next to the deposit amount.

"I've got an idea about this," he said. "Do you mind if I have a friend look into it?"

"Have at it," I told him, handing over the paper. The more eyes who looked at this stuff the better.

"So what do you want to do about tonight?" Lupo asked me as he stood up and walked toward his work area. He set down the paper I'd given him and picked up his phone before looking back at me. "You told Rhonda that you'd call."

"Don't remind me," I said as I checked my watch. It was after five. I knew that the Gorens had to be in Atlantic City by now.

Were they talking with Strathmore?

Was he denying that he had any blood relatives for fear that I'd try to stake a claim to his money?

Probably. Guys like that probably had relatives cropping up everywhere.

"We need to decide something soon. You've got her on the hook. We don't want her wiggling off."

"I know. I was just hoping to hear from Bobby and Alex first. I need to get a feel for how much time to buy. If Strathmore's on board, and we need another day or two, I can probably fake a work excuse. If he's not and it'll take longer, then I need to have an acute abdominal pain hit me. And you know, with the way I'm feeling right now, it wouldn't be much of a stretch."

And it was true. My head was pounding, and my stomach hurt, and overall I felt like crap.

"Give them another hour," Carolyn spoke up. I smirked at the knowledge that she'd been listening, just as I'd been. "If we don't hear from them by six, then we'll make a decision."

I caught her eye and she smiled at me.

She was trying, I knew.

She didn't want this case any more than I did, but it was in our laps and the only way to get rid of it was to wrap it up.

Lupo stood in the middle of the room and looked back and forth between us.

"I'm going to make a coffee run," he said slowly. "And place a call to my friend about this bank account."

"Take your time," I told him as I got up from my chair. "And call your blonde, too," I added facetiously. "It might be a late night."

Lupo left, grumbling about the hair color of his girlfriend, and I crossed the room to Carolyn.

"How are you holding up, sweetheart?"

"You mean am I ready to ravage you again?" she asked teasingly.

Her tone and expression instantly eased the pain that I'd been feeling, and I realized now that it was stress-induced.

I was literally making myself sick.

"That's not was I was asking, but since you brought it up, would your answer be yes?" I asked in a low whisper as I slid my fingers into her hair.

"I'm always ready for that," she replied softly, tilting her head towards mine in anticipation of a kiss. My lips met hers enthusiastically as I temporarily shrugged off the tension of the day.

_This_ was what was important.

_This _was what we needed to hang on to.

Everything else was just secondary.

"It's only a matter of time, honey," I told her as I brought her up from her chair and into my arms. "We're closing in on her."

"I know. Let's not talk about her for five minutes, okay?"

How was I going to argue with a request like that?

I'd give her ten. Twenty. Anything she wanted.

But she only took five. I held her tight and ran my hands up and down her back. She sighed heavily and leaned into me. Liz opened the door to come into her office, but when she saw us, she quickly stepped back out.

And when the five minutes was up, we stepped apart.

"I found the identity of the dead guy who was in the closet with Alex," she told me, quickly back into business mode. "Two months ago, a neighbor called the cops to report a smell coming from the apartment. The neighbor stated that no one had seen the elderly gentleman for several days."

"Cops checked it out?"

"Uh huh. And when they got there, the old man's _daughter_ was there and she said that the man had gone on a mission to Guatemala."

"They bought that?" I asked in disbelief.

"She had some kind of documentation to back it up. And she said the smell was because he'd left without dumping his trash."

"That'll be another murder," I said idly. "We can't prove cause of death on him until we catch her and can remove the body, but I'm sure he didn't happen to die of natural causes while she was trying to steal his apartment."

And then two phones buzzed at once.

My cell and Archie's cell, each with an incoming text message.

I read Archie's first because I knew mine was about Strathmore.

He had one from Rhonda in response to his message about his ill mother.

_**Go to hell. I don't need you anymore anyway.**_

Nice girl.

But it was good news. She was most definitely all in with my act.

The message on my phone was from Goren.

_**How soon can you get to AC?**_

What the hell did that mean?

Was it good?

Bad?

Were they in jail again and needed bail money?

I wanted to ask, but at the same time, that wasn't how we did things.

If Goren wanted me to go to Atlantic City, then I was going to Atlantic City.

I checked my watch again. Five-thirty. If I threw on the siren, I could probably make it by eight o'clock.

"Well?" Carolyn asked. "What does it say?"

"They want us to come down there."

"That's a good thing, huh?"

"I guess so. I'll have to call Rhonda and tell her…something. I don't know what."

"I'd say that you should tell her you have an STD but I don't guess that would be much of a deterrent, would it?" she remarked dryly.

I had to laugh. And then she started up with me and once we got going, it was difficult to stop.

The pressure of the day was finally relenting.

Strathmore was maybe an okay guy.

Carolyn was making jokes about Rhonda.

Leads were shoring up and the noose was tightening.

Rhonda's days as a free woman were numbered.

TBC...

**A/N: STD joke - totally not mine. I think I mentioned before the 50/50 effort here between Mitzvahgirl and myself, but she keeps deflecting credit. Deny this one...go ahead. I have proof. :)**


	36. Chapter 36

**Bobby POV**

* * *

Alex and I left our room and went down to the hotel restaurant at seven-twenty.

"I'm surprised that Mike isn't here yet," she commented as we waited for the hostess to return.

"It hasn't even been two hours," I reminded her.

"I know," she answered with a smile. "But you know he has that siren. And he loves to use it."

"Yes he does," I agreed as I slipped my hand into hers.

It had been a pleasant two-hour wait.

In fact, I couldn't remember the last time I'd gotten so much enjoyment out of killing time.

The hotel was posh, and while Strathmore hadn't gone so far as to reserve us the penthouse, he had secured us a roomy suite with a great view.

Although no view compared to what Alex had shown me.

"_What are you doing_?" I'd asked her. I'd just locked the door of our room and turned around to find her taking off her pants.

"_I'm going to lie down," _she'd said easily_. "I don't want my slacks to wrinkle since I'll have to wear them to dinner."_

And even though for once we'd actually had a bag in the car with a change of clothes, the spares were casual clothes, not nearly dressy enough for the restaurant in this place.

"_Good idea," _I'd answered. I crossed the room to her and began unbuttoning her blouse. _"You don't want this to wrinkle either."_

"_What about you?" _she'd asked with a grin._ "You don't want to mess up your suit."_

So we'd stripped down completely before getting in the bed.

After all, it wouldn't do to wear crumpled underwear when dining with a millionaire.

And then I'd held her in my arms, gently stroking my fingers along her back.

And we'd talked.

"_I think he might be a decent guy,"_ she'd whispered, almost as though she was afraid to say the words aloud.

"_I think so, too."_

"_And I just can't get over how much he looks like Mike. How does that happen? I mean, I've seen a picture of their mother. Neither of them really looks like her."_

"_They must look like a McMahon from somewhere along the line,"_ I'd replied.

And I had to admit that the similarities in physical appearance did make the whole thing that much more fascinating.

My brother hadn't looked much like me at all, although the discovery that we had different fathers had helped shed some light on that.

"_I think he's going to be accepting of Mike. Or at least interested. He seems smart. And he's obviously worked hard. And he was willing to listen to us."_

"_We should tell Mike to come,"_ I'd said suddenly. _"If he leaves now, he could be here around eight. That'll give us time to let Strathmore know the score." _

"_You don't think it's too soon?"_

"_I think the anticipation may be worse than the reality. Besides, we did what we wanted to do. We spoke with him, and he doesn't appear to be a complete asshole. And I have a feeling after Strathmore hears all of the details, he's going to want to meet Mike, too."_

Alex had agreed, so I'd gotten up and sent Mike a text.

He'd replied in less than a minute.

_**I'll text you when we get into town.**_

I was curious as to what he was going to tell Rhonda, but I trusted him to handle it. And another night away from Manhattan might do him and Carolyn both some good.

I eased back against the pillows and pulled Alex to me again.

"_Should we set the alarm in case we fall asleep?"_ she'd murmured, her voice sounding like she was only minutes away from slumber.

"_I'm not going to go to sleep_," I'd assured her.

But then she started running her fingers back and forth across my chest and the sensation was so soothing…

"_Okay,"_ I'd agreed. _"Hold that thought_."

I rolled over and grabbed the hotel phone and requested a wake-up call for six-thirty.

Then I turned back to her and she resumed her gentle caress.

"_You're doing well with this,"_ she'd said softly.

"_This?"_

"_I expected you to hate Strathmore on sight, just out of principle."_

"_I wanted to,"_ I admitted. _"But I also had to think how I would feel in Mike's shoes. There's something about the instant feeling of a bond when you find out that you're related to someone."_

"_You're thinking about Donny."_

Not much got past my Alex.

"_I just remember feeling protective when I learned about him. Even though I'd never spoken to him, I wanted to make things okay for him. I felt bad that he'd grown up with Frank as his father because I can imagine what that was like. And I wanted to make things better for him."_

"_This is different,"_ she began, and for a second, I thought that maybe she didn't understand. _"And yet it's the same,"_ she finished.

How could I have doubted her? Of course she understood.

"_Mike can't help but feel the desire to get to know him. It's human nature. And even though we're here to pave the way for him, to hopefully make things a little easier by dropping the bombshell to Strathmore before Mike arrives, ultimately it's all up to the two of them. It'll either work or it won't."_

"_And if it does, then you'll have another brother," _she declared. I pulled her even closer, feeling suddenly emotional at her astute observation.

"_Right,"_ I agreed in a raspy voice. _"And if it doesn't, I still have the one."_

We laid together in quiet for several long minutes. The sleepiness had passed as quickly as it had arrived, but the alternative was even better.

It was a half-conscious state of complete and utter relaxation.

Her fingers on my chest, her warm body pressed against mine, her soft skin underneath my own fingertips…Alex was better than any drug on the market.

"_So you think Strathmore will go along with our sting?"_ she asked quietly as she slipped her smooth leg between mine. Her hand trailed upwards to rub along my jaw and into my hair.

I let my eyes fall closed, choosing instead to rely upon my other senses.

"_Yes,"_ I answered. _"He'll want to help. He'll be appalled by the idea that so many of his counterparts have fallen victim to her."_

"_You're betting that he has Mike's sense of justice."_

"_I…guess I am, yes. Maybe I'm projecting."_

I felt her breath on my cheek as she leaned closer and gently kissed my closed lids.

"_It's hard not to, I know_," she agreed. She continued to kiss my face, light and fleeting kisses that were slowly lighting a fire in me. _"But we have to remember that he's not Mike. We don't know this man. We can't let our guard down."_

"_I know."_

"_And he may react poorly tonight, but we need to give him time to absorb the information."_

"_Uh huh."_

"_If that happens, maybe we can suggest another meeting in the morning."_

"_Okay."_

"_Bobby?"_

"_Hm?"_

"_Are you listening to me?"_

"_I am,"_ I said, still not opening my eyes. _"But honey, can we come back to this conversation when you're not doing all of these wonderful things?"_

"_Maybe I should come back to doing the wonderful things after we've finished the conversation,"_ she replied.

And I didn't have to look at her to know that she was grinning.

"_Alex…please."_

"_Where's my tape recorder when I need it?"_ she'd teased softly. _"Bobby Goren, saying please…"_

I smiled at her words, but then let out a long contented sigh as she let her fingers and lips wander leisurely over my body.

I'd never before realized how intimate and pleasurable touch could be.

And maybe that sounds silly. Because of course everyone likes the sensation of another's touch.

But I mean not as a precursor to other things. Touching simply for the enjoyment it brought rather than as a means to an end.

Because we didn't make love during our brief respite.

Not in the traditional sense anyway.

But I couldn't remember a time when I felt more loved than I did right then, laying on the bed with Alex.

"Mr. and Mrs. Goren?"

The hostess brought my attention back to the present as she stood in front of us, smiling broadly.

"Yes," Alex answered.

"Mr. Strathmore called ahead to arrange the table. He said to let you know that he will be arriving shortly. If you'll just follow me please," she said, and then she turned and led the way into the dining room.

"This place is beautiful," Alex said quietly. And she was right. It most definitely screamed money, and Strathmore had mentioned that this was _one _of his hotels.

We were seated in a quiet alcove that provided a breath-taking view of the ocean. The sun had long-since set, but the lights along the boardwalk spilled onto the water.

"Before we go back, let's take a walk out there," I said.

"On the boardwalk?" Alex asked in surprise. "It's January."

"I'll keep you warm," I promised in a hushed voice. She immediately smiled, and squeezed my hand.

"That sounds like an offer I can't refuse."

I held her gaze for a minute longer, and then we dropped hands and switched to business mode. Obviously, Strathmore knew that we were married, but we were still working on a case here.

At precisely seven-thirty, Strathmore arrived at the table. I stood up to shake his hand.

"Mr. and Mrs. Goren," he greeted. "I trust your accommodations are to your liking?"

"It's great," Alex replied. "Thanks."

"We appreciate you taking the time to meet with us. I know that you're a busy man," I said. I figured that it wouldn't hurt to be diplomatic.

And the truth was that I _did_ appreciate it. We were strangers to him, and he was being more than courteous.

"So tell me what's going on with this con woman," he stated, obviously anxious to get to the point.

In our typical, alternating fashion, Alex and I told Strathmore about Rhonda's scams, although we didn't get into her current crime spree just yet.

"If you know where she is, then why haven't you simply had her arrested?" he asked.

"The evidence against her is shaky. We want to catch her in the act, and we think that maybe with your help, we can do that," Alex explained.

"Her recent crimes have become increasingly violent," I added. "But she's quite adept at using others to do her dirty work."

"And her accomplices have a tendency to either refuse to speak out against her or they end up dead. We don't want to bring her in and then have the charges slide off of her."

"But she's already tried to approach me once, and I turned her down. What makes you think that she'll try to come after me again?"

"We know for a fact that you're next on her list."

"How?"

Alex and I looked at each other. For some reason, I was nervous about saying the words.

I glanced at my watch. It was five minutes after eight. Logan would be texting me any minute to let me know that he was in Atlantic City.

"What aren't you telling me?" Strathmore asked, and I had to admire his astuteness as well as his candor.

I caught Alex's eye one more time.

_I'm not sure that I can say it._

She read my mind.

"During the course of our investigation, we learned that this woman, Rhonda Hagen, was using an alias. Several, in fact, but her latest choice was Shannon Logan."

"Okay…"

"You don't recognize that name?"

"I'm going to guess that it has something to do with my mother, considering that you brought her up to my receptionist earlier today," he answered.

"But you don't know the name Logan?" I asked him. It was important for me to ascertain whether or not Strathmore had prior knowledge of Mike's existence, but I didn't see any hint of recognition of the name.

"No. Should I?"

"What do you know about your mother?" Alex asked him suddenly. "You mentioned that she died fifty years ago, but when we were in the car, you questioned if Rhonda could possibly be your sister."

Strathmore sat back in his chair and took a sip of his drink.

"So what is this? You show me yours, I show you mine? How do I know that you're not going to turn around and sell this story to the press?"

"Because you've already checked us out," I told him. "Or you had Rocco do it. You know that we're former detectives with the NYPD. You know that we're on the up and up."

He nodded, clearly impressed that I'd come to the correct conclusion.

"And if we wanted to go to the press with any of this, believe me, we have enough to have done so without hearing a word from you," Alex added. "We're not in the business of ruining lives. We just want this woman behind bars."

"It almost sounds personal," he commented.

"It is," I answered firmly.

"Why?"

"One of our business partners is a man named Mike Logan. Shannon Logan was his mother's name, so when Rhonda used that as her alias, he did some extensive research on his mother to see if he could find out why."

"He had to research his own mother?"

"Yes," Alex answered without offering further explanation. "He learned that his mother had been married prior to marrying his father."

I watched Strathmore's face as he struggled to piece together the implication before she actually said the words.

"Stop right there," he said, holding his hand up. "I think I know where you're going with this."

"I think you do, too," I said quietly. "Tell us why you claim that your mother died when you were two."

"Because…because my father told me that she had. It wasn't until later that I learned the truth."

"Your father - James Malloy?"

"Yes. The only thing my birth father gave me was money and my name. I never actually met him, but he sent monthly checks and set up a trust fund."

"So your father said that your mother was dead. Why?"

"He…uh…he caught her beating me. Twice. The first time he warned her that if it happened again, he'd have her locked up. The second time he gave her a choice. She could leave and never come back or she was going to prison."

"So you never saw her again?"

"I was only two when she left, so I don't remember seeing her ever. As far as we were concerned, she was dead. No one has ever questioned it. But so…she got married again? And had more kids?"

"Just one. Our friend, Mike."

"So…I have a brother."

I was elated that despite his shock, he seemed interested.

I was also proud of myself for handling it well. Alex was proud of me, too, because I felt her hand on my thigh. She knew that this was the moment I'd been dreading, and yet….maybe it wasn't going to be so bad.

"A half-brother, yes," Alex said.

"And how am I supposed to know that this isn't part of the whole grand scam?" he asked, eyeing us both carefully. "You bring me into your confidence, you tell me this sad story, and now suddenly I have a blood relative who wants to be in my will."

I could feel the anger coming off of Alex, but I spoke before she could say anything.

I was glad that he'd asked that question.

It was a smart, logical question, and it meant that he was a shrewd thinker.

"Mike isn't interested in your money," I stated. "But that's why Rhonda has come after him. She wants him to help her get your money. That's how all of this ties in together. That's how you can help us."

"What if I don't want to help you? Then what?"

"Then maybe we catch her and maybe we don't. Maybe she finds another way into your bank account. Maybe she kills your brother's wife for real next time."

We had him.

He might not know it yet, but we did.

"He has a wife? And this woman tried to kill her?"

"She thinks that she already has."

"I don't understand. I think you skipped over a lot of the details."

"We thought that maybe Mike could fill you in on the rest," I said.

"Is he here in Atlantic City?" Strathmore asked in surprise. "I want to meet him," he added, as though we might try to talk him out of it.

"We were kind of hoping that you would say that," Alex told him.

"How soon can I meet with him?"

As though on cue, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out and looked at the text.

_**We're here. Now what?**_

"How about right now?"

TBC...


	37. Chapter 37

**Carolyn POV**

* * *

I drove us to Atlantic City.

Normally, I have no problem letting Mike drive. He enjoys it, and I have to admit that I tend to get caught up in my own head sometimes rather than paying attention to the road, so it usually worked out better if he took the wheel.

But not tonight.

I was so glad that Bobby had texted him to tell him to come down.

I'd been afraid that maybe they wouldn't get the chance to meet with Strathmore tonight.

I didn't want Mike to have to wait any longer. I knew that his anxiety about the situation was getting to him.

The mind is funny thing. It usually managed to create a worse scenario in the brain than what would take place in reality. Maybe it was a self-preservation technique, I don't know.

It kept expectations low to avoid disappointment.

Right now, I had no idea what Mike's expectations were.

So even though I had the siren flashing and the pedal pushed to the floor, I cast a look in Mike's direction.

He was staring out of the passenger side window, and his features appeared calm, yet he was giving himself away. He was playing with his pinky ring, turning it around and around.

I found it to be an endearing tell, one that he'd had as long as I'd known him. And so I decided that the ring was as good a topic as any to try to draw him from his shell.

"You've never told me where you got that ring," I said as I shifted my eyes back to the road.

"I haven't?" he asked, his voice barely audible over the blaring siren.

"No."

"It was my father's," he replied, shifting in his seat so that he was facing me. "My mother gave it to him when they got married. When he left her…when he left _us_…he um…he left it behind."

"For you?"

"No, just…I guess he didn't want it any more. After he'd been gone for a couple of weeks, my mom made me pack up all of his stuff. She told me to dump it in the trash, but I...I couldn't do that, so I took it to a homeless shelter in the neighborhood."

"Except for the ring."

"Yeah. I wanted something of his in case…well, you know. In case I never saw him again."

"And did you? See him again after that?"

"Um…no," he said on a sigh. And then he let out a low chuckle. "And boy did it ever cheese my mom off to see me wearing the ring."

And even though he was laughing, I knew what his words meant. She'd most likely beaten him senseless.

"It's nice that you have a tangible reminder of him," I said, shaking off the mental image of Mike as a child, at the mercy of that relentless woman.

"It's not just that," he said after a minute. I was surprised that he wanted to elaborate. When it came to the topic of his past, he would usually answer my questions, but he rarely offered more than what was asked.

"It's not a reminder?" I asked.

"Well, it _is_ that, but I mean that it's not just of him. It's both of them."

"Because she bought it for him at a time when they were in love," I deduced. "It is nice to know that there was at least one point when your parents loved each other, even if you never got to witness it personally."

"No," he said.

I felt his hand slip along the back of my neck, his fingers coming to rest just beneath the collar of my blouse.

"It's a reminder of how _not_ to be," he explained. "I had a shrink once who told me that my lot in life was predetermined. I was abused and therefore I would eventually become the abuser."

"What?" I nearly shouted. "What kind of a professional would say something like that?"

"Yeah, I know," he replied with a shrug. "I was fourteen, and I'd gotten into a fight at school. The other kid's parents wanted to press charges, so…it turned into a whole thing. But instead of getting sent to juvie, I ended up having to go to court-mandated therapy to resolve my _anger issues_."

He moved his fingers along the back of my neck, gently rubbing the tight muscles.

"Can you imagine that? Me, having anger issues?" he asked sardonically.

"Mike," I began, although I wasn't entirely sure what to say. Exactly how much had he been forced to endure as a child?

"And I know that the shrink was wrong," he said quickly. "I mean, I know it _now_. I'm not still worried about that. Not really anyway. Of course it's always a possibility that a child will become like his parent, but it's also just as possible that he won't."

He paused for a minute, seemingly deeply entrenched in memories. When he spoke again, his voice sounded so resigned.

"I keep wearing the ring because it reminds me of my past. I like to think that it helps me to keep from repeating it."

I was almost sorry that I had asked. I mean, I was glad to know it, but I was trying to relax him and yet I'd dredged up more memories.

"I'm sorry that I never told you before," he continued.

"You told me now," I replied.

It was odd to have such a solemn and quiet conversation while barreling down the interstate at an insane rate of speed, but it felt somewhat fitting.

Our lives were a continuous juxtaposition of frenzied action and tender moments, but it was who we were, and neither of us would have it any other way.

"I know how Rhonda first learned about my mother," he said after we'd traveled several more miles. He was now running his fingers through my hair as though it was comforting him to be comforting me.

"You do? Did she tell you?"

"No. But we know that she went through my wallet, right?"

"Uh huh."

"I remembered something else that I used to keep in it."

"What was that?"

"Her obituary."

"You kept your mother's obituary notice in your wallet?"

"I know," he said as he let out a deep breath. "It's weird."

"It's not weird. It's just…different."

"Oh no, sweetheart. It's weird," he insisted on a laugh. "But you know, I just hated her so much…it was such a relief when she died that I found myself reading the words over and over. I had a hard time adjusting to the idea that she was actually gone."

"That's not surprising. She wielded a power over you for so long that to you she seemed invincible. And for something like an illness to finally take her away…"

"It seemed too good for her. And how sick does that make me? I actually wished for a more violent death for my own mother."

"She was a violent woman. It would've been fitting," I replied. "It doesn't make you sick at all. It makes you human. Because even though you may have wished for it, you never did it yourself. And you could have, many times over. It would've been justifiable."

He was quiet and thoughtful for a few moments longer.

"So you don't still keep it in there?" I asked finally.

"No. I took it out not too long after we got together. It wasn't serving any purpose. Not like the ring. And honestly, I really just didn't want to think about her anymore."

"The ring doesn't serve a purpose either," I said. I'd initially planned to let that misconception go for now, but since he'd brought it up again I decided to approach it head on. "You would never be abusive. Just because it was in her, that doesn't mean that it's in you. In fact, I know that it's not in you. We've argued, and I've gotten up in your face, but never once have I ever been afraid that you would hurt me."

"Sweetheart, that's because you would mop up the floor with me," he said, letting out another chuckle.

"I'm being serious," I insisted.

I knew that he wanted to lighten the mood, but I wanted him to understand my point.

And I hated that I couldn't look him in the eye while I said the words, but instead, I reached back and grabbed his hand that had been stroking my hair.

I pulled it down to rest on my leg and then laced my fingers through his.

"That ring doesn't keep you from being abusive," I told him. "_You_ keep you from that."

He was quiet again for a long time, and I let him be.

He held my hand until we approached the outskirts of Atlantic City. Then he let it go so that I could have both hands for driving through traffic.

I turned off the lights and siren since we were off of the interstate and slowed down until my speed matched the flow of traffic.

When I came to a stop at a red light, he held out his hand to me again. I thought he wanted to hold mine, but instead he was offering me something.

"Hang on to this for me, will you?" he asked as he put his ring in the palm of my hand.

"Mike, I didn't mean that you shouldn't wear it. I only meant that you didn't _need_ to wear it."

"I know," he said, closing my fingers around the ring. "And it's hard for me to accept that, but I trust _you_. So I'm going to trust you to give it back to me if you ever think that I _do_ need it. Okay?"

"Okay," I agreed.

I was swamped with raw emotion by his display of love and trust. How could he possibly think that he would ever hurt me?

Still clutching the ring, I leaned over and kissed him. It began as slow and exploratory, but it quickly built in intensity and we went at it until the driver of the car behind us started honking the horn.

I pulled away and settled back into my own seat before carefully slipping his ring onto my index finger so that I wouldn't lose it.

"You should text Bobby and let him know we're here," I told him as I pulled away from the intersection.

"I _can_," he said, the tease back in his voice. "But I was kind of hoping we'd catch another red light."

But he did send a text, and within a couple of minutes, he got a response which included directions to the Malloy Towers Hotel.

I'd heard of it before, but I hadn't put it together with Strathmore. His finances were a maze of corporations and conglomerates and I wondered if even he knew exactly how much he was worth.

We arrived at the hotel and left the car with the valet.

Mike paused inside the lobby and took a deep breath.

"Why am I nervous?" he asked me. "What difference does it make whether he likes me or not?"

"It doesn't make any," I assured him.

"I made it through my whole life without him. What will it hurt me if I go the _rest_ of my life without him?"

"It won't."

"Exactly. So why do I care?"

"Because that's what kind of man you are. It's one of the reasons why I love you."

"You're going to stay with me?" he asked, and his vulnerability nearly broke my heart.

_Please let this guy be nice_.

But I had to trust that Bobby and Alex would've at least warned us if he was bad news.

"For however long you want me," I promised.

"I want you forever, sweetheart," he whispered as he wrapped his arms around me.

I knew that he was trying to get his balance. It had certainly been a tough thing to find lately. But he seemed to find it in me, and I was grateful to be able to provide that kind of stability for him.

"Okay, let's do this," he said when he finally stepped back.

He took my hand in his and together we walked to the entrance of the restaurant.

TBC...

**A/N: There is nothing wrong with my ability to compute facts and figures. 50 / 50.**


	38. Chapter 38

**A/N: Hump day bonus chapter :)**

**Ross POV**

* * *

For awhile, I firmly believed that Wednesday would never end.

The latter part of my morning and my entire afternoon was spent in the commissioner's office.

Apparently Tosco had called to complain about my so-called steamroller attitude.

"Danny, you can't just walk into another captain's house and start bossing him around."

"He's an incompetent jackass," I countered. "He wants the chief job so he's trying to impress you."

"Tosco wants to be chief?"

I laughed out loud at the commissioner's obliviousness. Tosco had likely gone through a case of chapstick in the past month, considering the amount of ass-kissing he'd been doing, and yet he'd barely made a blip on the boss man's radar.

"Did he tell you what happened?" I asked once I'd settled myself down.

"He told me that his cops made a solid arrest on charges of assault."

"He arrested the Gorens!"

"The former MCS detectives? Those Gorens?" he asked in disbelief.

Jeez, it hadn't even been a month. And how many other Gorens did he know?

"Yes," I said, biting back my smartass reply. "They were questioning a suspect in conjunction with the Rhonda Hagen case. The man started a fight. And he was armed, so they confiscated his weapon and that's when Tosco's boys showed up. His boys handcuffed everyone and put them all in the back of a squad car."

The commissioner sat back in his chair and sighed heavily.

I didn't envy his job. It seemed to be a time when lines were being drawn. There were good cops and bad cops, and for some reason the bad ones were all rearing their ugly heads.

Maybe because Moran wasn't around any more to cover things up.

"But he let them go."

"Yes. After I called him and threw my weight around."

"Which is why he's saying that you bullied him."

"He was wrong to do what he did," I said firmly. "You signed the damn papers yourself, sir. They are subcontracted employees of the NYPD and they were treated like common criminals."

"Of course he was wrong," he replied with a wave of his hand.

"And he was wrong last month when he stood behind those two thugs Taggart and Woody. You know that Taggart has committed additional crimes since he's been behind bars, right? He helped orchestrate the kidnapping of Carolyn Logan."

"What do you want me to do, Ross? Fire every bad captain in the precinct?"

He asked that like it was a bad thing.

"Absolutely."

"And replace them with whom? Tosco's not the only idiot we have working for us."

"You can teach a cop the job, sir. You can't teach a man how to be honorable and ethical. That has to be there to begin with. I'm sure there are plenty of qualified officers waiting for the opportunity."

"Okay. I want a list on my desk first thing in the morning."

"A list?"

"Of qualified officers. I'll have to look back over the files, but off the top of my head, I'd say that there are going to be three positions open, so give me at least a dozen names."

How did I get myself into these situations?

And since when was I the commissioner's right hand man?

Right.

When I'd helped get the chief put behind bars.

"What are my chances of getting the Gorens back?"

His random question had my mind reeling to play catch-up.

"Sir?"

"It's my understanding that the one, um…Alex Goren. She passed her lieutenant's exam, right?"

"Yes sir, but…"

"And I'm sure the other one could pass it as well. That would take care of two positions right there."

He wanted me to bring them back to the department so that he could make them both captains?

"Sir, I would be more than happy to make them the offer, but I can tell you right now that they won't be interested."

"Ross, I thought we had an understanding. I scratch your back, you scratch mine, right? I gave you Bernard. I gave you Lupo. I pulled Harker out of the rotation and his transfer to OCCB is pending. What more do I have to do to get you to play ball?"

"I appreciate the leeway that you've given me. And I'm not saying that I won't ask them. In fact, if you'd like, I'm sure I can arrange for them to meet with you and you can ask them yourself. I'm just warning you that their acceptance is unlikely. They're happy with what they're doing now. Of course, I'm sure they're open to continue working with the department on a case by case basis…"

And so it went from there.

Eventually I left his office feeling pretty good about myself.

Tosco along with two other equally incompetent captains were going to be given their walking papers.

The commissioner was going to look further into the cost-benefit analysis of subcontracting more cases, which would in turn boost the Logans' and Gorens' business.

And I managed to still have most of my ass intact, although he had chewed on it somewhat for the back-dated report along with my use of department funds for an unofficial case. However, since it ultimately all tied into the Rhonda Hagen case, I was exonerated of any kind of official reprimand.

So all in all, it could've gone much worse.

It was kind of nice to have a boss who could at least vaguely see the big picture after having to deal with the likes of Moran.

I checked my phone when I got out into the hall.

It was after six o'clock and I was anxious to see how the meeting had gone between Logan and Rhonda. I'd passed on Lupo's number to Logan just before stepping into the commissioner's office this morning, but other than that, I was painfully behind the curve.

I had two missed calls from Liz and one from Bernard.

I figured that I'd better check with Bernard first.

If something was seriously wrong, Liz would've called more than twice.

In fact, she knew where I was. If it was urgent, she would've just stormed the commissioner's office and pulled me out of the meeting.

I dialed Bernard's number as I walked outside.

"Captain," he answered. "I wanted you to have a heads-up that I'm on my way to Trenton."

"What's going on?"

"How much do you know?"

"Next to nothing. I've been in with the boss all day. Give me the bullet points."

"Okay…um…the meeting with Logan and Hagen went smoothly. She's hooked. The Gorens left around one for AC to meet with Strathmore. The Logans headed down there, too, but they just left a little bit ago. Mike called Rhonda from the road to let her know that he couldn't meet her tonight because a lead on a case was taking him out of town."

"She bought that?"

"She's buying whatever he's selling."

"So what's going on in Trenton?"

"Before Logan made the call, Lupes went over to sit on Rhonda's crib. He wanted to see what she would do when she found out that her rendezvous was postponed."

"And?"

"And it looks like she's making a run to the old homestead. Lupo called me when she hit the turnpike. I'm going to head that direction and meet up with him."

"Nice work, Detective. Keep me in the loop."

"You got it, Cap. Oh, and Harker is…"

"Harker's benched. He'll be in OCCB before you get back from the Garden State. You're off babysitting duty."

"Thank you, sir," he answered enthusiastically.

I hung up with him and started to call Liz, but then I decided to head for the morgue instead.

I wasn't going back to the office tonight, and I wasn't going to let her sit around her office all night either.

Not alone, anyway.

**

* * *

**

Lupo POV

It had been a hunch that Rhonda would blow town after getting her brush-off call from Logan.

But it had turned out to be a good one.

And I didn't know exactly where she was going. She could be planning to hit a bar to let off some steam. She could be skipping town because she smelled a set-up. Or she could be working, laying down more foundation for her scam.

When she blew through Newark and kept heading south on the turnpike, I had a pretty good idea that she was going to Trenton.

Or more specifically, White Horse. I knew that she had a house there.

Alex had mentioned her creepy stash. I wasn't sure why she was heading there now unless she was going to start covering her tracks.

Did she have plans to take Logan there?

She'd bought the place because it held meaning for her. In her twisted little mind it probably made her feel closer to Logan, considering his mother had been born there.

When I felt sure of her destination, I gave Bernard a call. I didn't mind working alone, but this was officially Bernard's case. More or less.

I guess it was actually the Gorens' case. And the Logans.

Hell, there were six detectives, a captain, and an ME working this damn thing and we were still having to bust our asses to catch her.

But it was only a matter of time now. We were closing in on her.

I hadn't even asked how the Gorens had managed to copy the suspect's computer files.

Some things were better left unsaid. It was called plausible deniability.

That was a phrase we used a lot when I worked in Intelligence. With that department, the book was merely a rough guideline as opposed to strict instructions.

I sometimes had trouble with following the rules now that I was a homicide detective. Cutter had ridden my ass on more than one occasion for my attempts to skirt around the letter of the law.

I was of the opinion that the end justified the means, but that wasn't always the case when it came to the courtroom.

Of course, now I wasn't just a homicide detective.

Now I was an MCS detective.

I hoped Ross didn't expect me to change my style. Although, he'd probably been broken in pretty good by the Gorens and Mike Logan, and they seemed to still enjoy working together so that was a good sign.

And the step up to the elite group was a nice pat on the back.

After I called Bernard and arranged for him to head to Jersey, I called Connie.

Cutter answered. I hung up.

_What the hell?_

I knew that she didn't have my name listed in her contacts, but instead just the number, so he wouldn't know that it was me calling, but still…why was he answering her cell phone?

I stewed about that as I followed Rhonda's car further south. She wasn't using any evasive measures and she wasn't speeding.

She wasn't remotely concerned that Logan was setting her up.

_God, I love narcissists_, I thought derisively.

A couple of miles later, my phone rang.

I couldn't decide whether or not to answer it. It was Connie's phone, but was it Cutter calling back to see who'd hung up on him?

_Cutter…talk about your narcissists…_

I let it go to voice mail, and then I checked the message.

"Lupo, it's me. Call me back."

I tamped down my jealousy and called her. I didn't like to let my temper get the best of me, and usually if I made a conscious effort to control it, I was okay.

"Why the hell was he answering your phone?" I asked when she answered.

And yeah, okay, so my conscious effort didn't work this time.

"I was in chambers," she answered calmly. "I had a draft of a brief on my Blackberry, so he was reading over it while I talked with Judge Wilson."

And just like that, I felt like an ass. What was it about that guy that got me so riled up?

"I'm sorry," I said. "I just…"

"I know. He answered and you assumed the worst."

"It's not that. I just…he's got a thing for you, you know."

"So?"

"So…he's a lawyer. He's…got money. He's…"

"He's not you," she said. "Lupo, I don't play games. If I wanted him, I wouldn't be stringing you along."

"I know," I said again.

"Good. Now, where are you and how soon can I get you naked?"

She had me laughing, and I realized once again why I loved spending time with her.

She made me feel good. And happy.

I told her my plans, and that I didn't know when I'd be home, but she promised to take Otto out and that she'd be at my place whenever I got there.

I almost blurted out the L-word, but I sucked it back in just in time and instead just said good-bye.

An hour later, I was sitting outside of Rhonda's house in White Horse. I'd sent the Trenton PD on their way, telling them that they could have the night off. They seemed thrilled and didn't even think about arguing with me. They said no one else had come near the house in two days.

Rhonda had left most of the lights off, and it was killing me to find out what she was doing in there, but I forced myself to wait for Bernard. Lucky for me, he showed up twenty minutes later.

"What took you so long?" I asked him with a grin.

He rolled his eyes at me, and the two of us walked through the darkness, approaching the back side of her house.

"What's she been doing?" he asked me.

"I have no idea, but she's doing it in the dark."

"That woman is bad enough in the daylight," he said with a smirk. "I sure as hell don't want to know what she's doing in the dark."

Goren had mentioned that the good stuff was in the basement, and from the back of the house, there were two tiny windows at ground level which likely looked into that room.

So we got down on the ground and cautiously looked through the window.

"What the hell…" Bernard mumbled.

And I was right there with him.

We could see her across the room working on a laptop. I couldn't see what she had on the screen, but the corkboard behind her was something out of a Thomas Harris novel.

"What is she looking at?"

Before I could decipher it, she'd sent something to a printer and closed the laptop.

We waited, collectively holding our breath, as she held her hand near the output tray of the printer in anticipation of her document.

"You think she needed another picture of Logan?" Bernard whispered.

"Yeah, because two thousand just isn't quite enough," I muttered back.

But when the item finished printing, and she placed it on the corkboard, I was dumbfounded to see that it was a picture of Goren.

Bobby Goren.

It looked like it was from a newspaper article or a department photo of some sort.

"She wants him now, too?"

But then she picked up a marker and drew a circle around his face and then a line through it.

"Um…yeah," I replied. "I think she wants him dead."

TBC...

**A/N: Oh, are you guys waiting for the meeting? Tomorrow :)**


	39. Chapter 39

**Rhonda POV**

* * *

I was so utterly disappointed after I got the call from Mikey.

I was literally _aching_ with need for him, and yet now he was going to make me wait another day.

Although, I had to admit that I was oddly aroused by his evasiveness.

And when I did finally get him alone, sparks were going to fly. We'd have to set aside several hours of time considering the things I wanted to do to him.

I smiled at the thought. Picturing Mikey in bed was one of my new favorite pastimes, and it wasn't hard to do since I'd had him there before.

_Eight times_, I reminded myself yet again.

I couldn't wait until I could up that number to nine.

But since it wasn't going to be tonight, I decided to make good use of my time.

Our conversation earlier today had been enlightening.

So, his big oaf of a partner had fucked his woman, huh? I'd like to give the guy a medal. Hell, I should throw him a damn parade for cheapening that bitch's image in Mikey's mind.

But he'd hurt my Mikey. He was supposed to be a friend.

And maybe Mikey would appreciate my talents even more if he saw first hand exactly what I could do. After all, he didn't know that I was behind the murder of _her_.

So I hadn't been able to gloat about that.

But the big guy…if I took him down in the name of vengeance for my Mikey…well, then he'd be forever indebted to me.

I looked around the sparse room. It felt cold and lonely. If I wasn't going to be with Mikey tonight, then I at least wanted to feel close to him. So I grabbed the laptop and headed for my car.

I was going to White Horse.

When I arrived, I was distressed to find that one of my windows had been broken.

There was a large rock just inside, and there was a note on my storm door.

_From the Trenton Police_.

My heart skipped a beat at the sight of the department logo, but as I read over the words, I had to laugh.

_**Your home was recently subjected to an act of vandalism. Our attempts to reach you have been unsuccessful. Please contact Officer Davies at the number listed below.**_

A fucking vandal. I wished I'd been home. I would've blown his damn head off.

I went inside, enjoying the dark quiet of my home in comparison to the noise of Manhattan.

As was my habit, I made my rounds through the house to be sure that everything was undisturbed. I was especially vigilant considering the vandal, but apparently breaking my window was his only crime.

When I finished my search, I went down to my favorite room. I looked over all of the photos of Mikey.

_He wanted me._

And he'd want me even more when he realized how well I could take care of business.

I quickly powered on my laptop and searched the department PR website until I found a photo of the recently-retired Detective Goren.

When it came out of the printer, I posted it over a blacked-out photo of the bitch. I didn't need to look at her any more anyway. She was history.

It was oddly gratifying to post Goren's picture on my wall.

_He was next_.

The thought sent a thrill through me that felt nearly as good as sex.

Mikey was going to be so grateful. I would be doing what he surely felt like doing himself.

But he was a good guy. He wasn't a killer.

He just wanted his rightful money.

And to be able to leave the city.

And me.

_He wanted me_, I thought again with a smile.

I felt giddy with excitement as I climbed the stairs and headed for the kitchen.

It was still early, but I'd spent a lot of sleepless nights lately, so I took a sleeping pill and went down the hall to my bedroom.

I hadn't slept in this house in a while, but one of my most prized possessions was here, so I opened the dresser drawer to get it out.

It was one of Mikey's t-shirts.

I'd stolen it from his laundry hamper when I'd planted the bugs. I'd been unable to resist, and surely he wouldn't miss one t-shirt.

I probably should've taken something from the back of a drawer, one that he didn't often wear, but taking one from the hamper meant that it would smell like him.

And it still did.

I pressed my face against the soft cotton and inhaled deeply, relishing in the strong masculine scent.

Then I stripped down, slipped the t-shirt over my head, and climbed into bed.

**

* * *

**

Logan POV

I scanned the restaurant, and my gaze immediately fell upon Alex. She was walking towards us and her expression was…inscrutable.

"What took you so long?" she asked when she reached us.

"She drove," I replied with a smirk as I tilted my head towards my wife.

But instead of responding, she pulled me into a quick hug, conveying support and affection in that simple gesture.

Then she hugged Carolyn as well before taking a step back.

"We've got a table near the back," she said. "Bobby's talking with him now."

"What do you think of him?" Carolyn asked her. My voice had suddenly escaped me.

"He's okay," she said with a slow smile. "He was initially a little suspicious, I think, but I can't blame him for that. We filled him in on Rhonda's m.o., but we didn't really get into many details. We thought that you might want to do that."

"You guys aren't staying?" I asked finally.

"We'll make the introductions," she assured me. "But you don't need us."

I stared straight ahead and nodded my head as I took deep breaths.

The butterflies had taken control of my stomach, and it was starting to piss me off.

_He's just a man_. What was the big fucking deal?

"Mike," Alex said, bringing my attention back to her. "This is a good thing. You can never have too much family."

She turned and led the way further into the room, but then she stopped and looked back at me with a grin.

"And don't worry. You're way better looking than he is."

A laugh bubbled out of me on its own accord, and the cloying tightness in my chest began to dissipate.

_It's going to be fine_, I told myself. And I nearly laughed again when I realized that the voice in my head was Carolyn's.

It _was_ going to be fine.

This wasn't a do-or-die situation.

It was dinner. With my mother's other son. He was probably just as nervous about this as me.

As we approached the table, my phone rang. I hesitated, and Carolyn stopped with me.

"Who is it?" she asked me. I glanced down at the display.

"Lupo. I need to take this," I said, even though I was now looking at my brother.

He had gotten up from his chair presumably to shake my hand.

"Um…" I said waveringly. "I'm sorry. I really need to take this."

"It's fine," he said easily. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Right back," I whispered to Carolyn as I pressed a quick kiss against the side of her head.

I felt bad leaving her standing there, but the whole situation had turned slightly awkward and I wasn't sure what else to do. Lupo wouldn't have called unless he felt that it was important.

I stepped off to the side and answered the phone.

"What," I said as I watched Carolyn shake my brother's hand. He was acting cordial, and the Gorens were at the table, too, so I shook off my worry and focused on the conversation.

"I think maybe you sold your story a little too well."

"What?"

"I followed Rhonda to White Horse. She worshipped at the temple of Mike Logan for a few minutes and then she added a target to her hit list."

"Who?"

"Goren."

"Bobby? Or Alex?"

"Bobby. I think maybe she wants to make you happy. You…um…you're mad at him for sleeping with Carolyn, so…"

"So she's going to kill him for me," I muttered.

"She's like a damn cat bringing a dead bird to your doorstep," he remarked. "She's considering it a gift."

"Mother fucker," I mumbled quietly.

My eyes drifted again to the table where everyone I loved was sitting, along with this new lone blood relative that I still had yet to actually meet.

But it was going to have to wait a few minutes longer.

I had to let Goren know what was going on.

That came first. _He_ came first.

"Hey, it looks like she's out for the night, and you guys are in AC, so…"

"Yeah, I know. But we never know what the hell she has up her sleeve, do we?"

"No, but this might help. I slipped a GPS on her undercarriage, so at least we'll be able to keep up with her car."

"Nice. Okay, great. Thanks for letting me know. And for following her. We'll, um…we'll be back to the city in the morning. I'll be in touch."

"Sure thing."

I tucked my phone back into my pocket and walked over to the table.

Strathmore immediately stood again, and held out his hand. I shook it firmly, and choked back the emotion that had lodged itself in my throat.

"It's good to meet you," he told me with a smile. And he seemed sincere, but I had trouble maintaining eye contact.

And it was in that moment that I realized that I had fully expected to meet my mother incarnate.

It was an insane thought, and yet it must have been tumbling around in my subconscious, adding to my fears.

"You, too. And I...I'm sorry. I need you to excuse us for just a minute," I said before I shifted my attention to Goren. "We need to talk."

"Mike, what's going on?" Carolyn asked. "What did Lupo say?"

"Something about the case?" Goren questioned.

"It's a…um…new development."

Damn, why did I have to push the envelope and tell Rhonda that it had been Goren?

If I'd left it as a nameless faceless person then I wouldn't be in this position right now.

_Goren_ wouldn't be in this position. But now he was, and I'd been the one to put him there.

"Sit," Strathmore encouraged. "I'll give you all a few minutes. I'll go make arrangements for you and your wife to have a room here tonight. I'm assuming that you are staying the night, right?"

"Yes, that would be great, thank you," Carolyn answered.

I couldn't quit staring at Goren. The guilt over getting him on Rhonda's radar had completely overridden my nerves at meeting Strathmore.

I knew I looked like a bumbling moron, but I couldn't help it.

"Mike, just say it," Alex said after Strathmore walked away. I dropped down into a chair and ran my hand over my face.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"When I met with Rhonda today, I told her that you were the one who had slept with Carolyn. I figured that it would gain me sympathy points if she thought that my best friend was involved."

"That's a brilliant idea," Goren agreed. "So what's the problem?"

"The problem is that now she's after _you_. Lupo thinks that she wants to impress me by getting payback on you."

"How do we know this?" Carolyn asked calmly. I looked at her, and then at Alex and then Bobby.

And I was amazed that no one seemed nearly as upset by this as me.

"After I blew her off, she went to White Horse. Lupo followed. She's added you to her corkboard, only your picture is marked out."

"Okay," Goren said with a shrug. "But that doesn't really change anything."

"Doesn't change anything?" I repeated, struggling to keep my voice down. "My carelessness has put you in her crosshairs! How can you say it doesn't change anything?"

"Strathmore's on board with the plan. By this time tomorrow, it's possible that we'll have her on tape and into custody. When is she going to find the time to kill me? Besides, she's probably only considering killing me because she's missing you right now. She doesn't realize how fast things are going to happen, but we do."

"But…I…she…" I began, and then I gave up.

They were right.

We could keep a tail on her. We could keep track of her cell phone call log. If she tried to come after Goren, we'd know it.

We'd circled in too close for her to be much of a threat anymore.

And if Strathmore was willing to play along with our sting, then she _was_ going to go down.

Quickly.

I let out a heavy sigh of relief as I realized that everyone was looking at me.

"Yeah, okay," I said with a wry grin. "So I may have panicked a little."

"A little?" Alex teased.

"A lot," I amended. "But seriously, you still need to be careful. She may have another method of communication that we don't know about yet. You guys are staying here tonight?"

"Yes," Goren said. "And we can follow each other back tomorrow. I'll be fine. It's not the first time that I've been on someone's list."

"So is everything okay?"

Strathmore was back, and he stood uncertainly about five feet away from the table.

I stood up and shook his hand again, this time focusing my full attention on him. And even though the timing had been bad, I didn't feel guilty for ignoring him the first time around. It had been a necessity.

And I had to admit that I was impressed as hell that he didn't seem offended or put off or anything.

In fact, he just seemed hopeful to be invited back to the table.

"Yes. Just another new twist to Rhonda's game," I replied as he sat down with us. "Welcome to our world."

TBC...


	40. Chapter 40

**Alex POV**

* * *

I didn't let it show in front of Mike, but his news about Rhonda hit me hard.

Because that woman was crazy.

And if she wanted Bobby dead then she would undoubtedly pull out all the stops to make sure that it happened.

Hell, it had almost happened to Carolyn.

In all honesty, if Adam Taggart hadn't decided to go against Rhonda's wishes and keep Carolyn for himself and for his brother, then she _would_ be dead right now.

He could've killed her while she was still out cold on the homemade cocktail, and she wouldn't have been able to put up a fight.

That thought sent a shudder of fear through me, and it made me scared for Bobby.

But Mike didn't need to know that.

Because he already thought that everything that had happened since Saturday was his fault.

And he'd take the blame for this now, too.

So I played it off.

"How soon can we get started on this?" Strathmore was asking. I liked that he was anxious about it, and that he was willing to play along.

"Tomorrow," Mike said. "I think that I should call her in the morning and tell her that I can't wait anymore. And then I'll call you."

He tipped his head toward Strathmore, who then appeared a little bit nervous.

"How will it work? What are you going to say?"

"First off, you have to remember that everything he says to you will be specifically crafted for his audience of one," Carolyn warned.

And I knew what she was thinking. This was a fledgling relationship between the brothers, and yet Mike would have to call and be belligerent about feeling some sort of entitlement to John's money.

"You mean I shouldn't get offended," Strathmore deduced. He said the words with a wry smile.

_Quick mind, good listener_…aside from his apparent lack of hot temper, even his personality was similar to Mike's.

Although I doubted that he could match Mike in the sense of humor department.

"Or think for a second that it's true," Mike added. "My script will be along the lines of _some of that money is rightfully mine_."

"And what if I just say no?" Strathmore asked. "Why would I agree to it?"

"Because we're going to blackmail you. The whole sordid story about our alcoholic abusive mother will be fed to the press if you don't agree to part with a large portion of your fortune."

Strathmore was quiet at that statement, but he held Mike's gaze.

"Is that part true? She was an alcoholic?"

And that was our cue.

Talking about the case was one thing, but they needed some privacy so that they could get into more personal matters.

Besides, Mike seemed fairly at ease with Strathmore, so Bobby and I quickly excused ourselves.

"You don't need to go," Mike insisted.

And I loved him for the words.

_You belong here with us. I have no secrets from you. _

That's what Mike's words said to Bobby.

And just the knowledge of the sentiment was more than enough.

It was still the right thing to do though, to give Mike and John some time alone, and I had no doubt that Carolyn would soon plead exhaustion and go up to their room.

"She promised me a walk on the boardwalk," Bobby said as he stood up. He shook Strathmore's hand and added, "It was a pleasure meeting you. I'm sorry that it was under these circumstances, but…"

"We'll have more time to get to know each other after this blows over," Strathmore finished. "Work first, right?"

A man after our own hearts.

So we left the Logans with Strathmore and headed for the boardwalk.

It was cold, but the sky was clear and it was a beautiful night.

"I think I actually like him," Bobby said after we'd walked for a few minutes.

He had his arm around me, holding me close against him in an effort to shield me from the damp ocean breeze.

"Me, too," I agreed. "He's not what I expected."

"How so?"

"I guess because he's so rich, I thought that he'd be arrogant. I thought he'd have this tremendous ego and be somewhat condescending. I mean, he seems to have grown up with the best of everything, but yet he's down to earth."

"That's probably why he's so successful."

"Maybe," I agreed.

"So the mother beat him, too," Bobby said quietly. "I wonder how Mike is going to feel about how Malloy handled that."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, if Malloy hadn't just sent her away…if he'd pressed charges and made her get help…"

"Then you think that she wouldn't have beaten Mike?" I suggested. "I think it more likely that she wouldn't have _had_ Mike."

"That's true. I didn't think of it like that."

"Besides," I began, but then I stopped.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a shadowy figure just off to the side of the boardwalk.

"What?" Bobby asked, oblivious to what I'd seen.

Before I could say another word, the man began rushing towards us.

And he had something in his hand.

I was flooded with fear and adrenaline, but mostly protectiveness.

_This was who Rhonda had sent to kill Bobby_?

Not on my watch.

"Gun!" I called out loudly as I stepped toward the man.

He was raising his hand toward Bobby, but I swiftly moved even closer to him, catching him off guard. I swung downward against his outstretched arm, dislodging the weapon from his grasp.

I followed it up with a swift jab to the throat that had him clutching at his neck with both hands, so then I shoved him around by the shoulder as I used my foot to sweep his legs out from under him, sending him sprawling onto the wooden planks.

"I've got you covered," Bobby yelled out, but I wasn't done with this asshole.

I immediately pounced on his back, keeping one knee lodged in between his shoulder blades as I wrenched his arms behind his back.

I didn't have cuffs, but he wasn't fighting anymore, so I held his wrists in my hands.

"You're hurting me!" the guy screamed.

"Good," I retorted.

"Alex," Bobby said.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I shouted as my heart pounded and my breath came in short bursts.

"Alex!" Bobby said again and his tone caught my attention.

"What?" I called out in irritation.

"It's a cell phone," he told me.

"What?" I asked again.

"It's not a gun. He had a cell phone in his hand."

_Oh my God_. I'd just attacked a guy for holding a phone.

"Can you get off of me now?" the man moaned.

"Why were you coming at us like that?" I asked him as the adrenaline slowly left me. I was still on his back, but I relaxed my hold on his wrists.

"My…my phone is dead and…I was…going to ask…if I could use yours."

"You come up to a couple of complete strangers on the boardwalk at night to ask to use a cell phone? What the hell is wrong with you?"

I felt Bobby's hands on my shoulders, encouraging me to get up, so I finally stood up and brushed myself off.

"I'm not from here, and…I just thought you two looked nice, and…I'm sorry, I…I had too much to drink, and I needed to call a cab, but then my phone was dead, and…"

"The phone _is_ dead," Bobby said as he looked at the equipment in question.

The man, who looked to be barely of legal drinking age, stood up and looked at me like I was insane.

And at the moment, I almost felt it. I was letting that bitch get to me. She was causing me to lose my perspective.

"Can I…have that back?" he asked hesitantly. Bobby put the useless phone in his hand, and then held out his own phone to him.

"Go ahead. Make your call," he told him.

"No, thanks. I think I'm sober now," he told us as he walked quickly away.

I watched him go, and then sat down heavily on a nearby bench.

"I cannot believe I just did that."

"You saved my life," he said with a smile. He sat down next to me and put his arm around me again.

"I saved you from a cell phone," I replied bitterly. "Rhonda's got me on the edge of my seat, waiting for her next move."

"You were great," he insisted. "It was dark, and he was an unknown…hell, I didn't even notice him until you were halfway through disarming him. If he _had_ been a danger, you were all over it."

"Yeah, I guess," I said on a sigh.

There was no sense in beating myself up about it. Hyper-vigilance was better than carelessness, especially given our current situation.

"And do you know what else?"

"What?"

"You looked pretty damn sexy taking him to the ground like that," he whispered.

"Oh, you liked that, huh?"

"I definitely liked it," he answered. He leaned down and kissed me thoroughly. He moved his hand up to my cheek, his fingers cold against my flushed skin.

"You got yourself all worked up," he commented.

"I was scared," I admitted. And I was proud of myself for how easily the words came out.

I _was_ scared.

"Rhonda's not going to touch me," he assured me.

"You don't know that."

"She's not as omnipotent as she'd like us to believe. She can't be everywhere, all the time. And with Strathmore on board with our sting, starting tomorrow her focus will shift right back to him and Mike. She wants money more than she wants me."

"Maybe," I agreed. "But promise me something."

"Anything."

"If she does manage to approach you somehow, and she uses a threat against me to try to make you compliant, don't do it."

"Alex…"

"You said anything."

"Anything but that," he amended.

"Bobby, you know as well as I do that her threats don't carry much weight. Carolyn was threatened that Mike would be harmed, but really? Was she really in a position to hurt him? She wasn't in the restaurant that night. We haven't found any evidence that she had another accomplice in the restaurant. It was just a scare tactic designed to make her obedient, right?"

"True."

"And you know that I can take care of myself," I reminded him.

"Yes."

"So…if it comes down to that, don't do it. Okay?"

"I promise to give it serious consideration," he hedged. "But it won't come to that. We're sticking together, and starting tomorrow, she'll be busy enough to forget about me."

I let it go because I figured that was the best I was going to get.

And he was right.

We would be sticking together for the duration of this case. In fact, I was going to insist that everyone involved work in twos, just in case.

"Can we go back to the room now?" I asked him quietly. The adrenaline high and the supercharged emotions of the day needed an outlet.

And I knew just the thing.

"Why?" he asked innocently. He looked both ways along the boardwalk and then back at me. "There's no one else out here."

He leaned down and kissed me again, and I could tell that he knew damn well why I wanted to go back to the room.

He was being a tease, though, because he dropped his hand from my cheek and instead began rubbing it along my thigh.

The warm weight of his hand and the gentle working of his lips over mine combined to push my desire even further until I finally stood up from the bench and tugged on his hand.

"Come on. We're going back now."

"You're being awfully bossy," he stated as he slowly got to his feet.

"You like me bossy," I reminded him as we headed back to the hotel.

"I do?" he teased. He tucked our joined hands inside his coat pocket to help warm up our fingers. "Are you sure?"

"Oh yeah. You like me bossy, snarky, slightly cynical…in fact, you like everything about me."

"Now that is absolutely not true," he argued.

"Really?" I challenged, quirking my eyebrow at him.

"Really," he insisted, and then he leaned down and whispered into my ear, "I _love_ everything about you."

His words and his voice sent another shot of arousal through me.

The man exuded sex without even trying, and I had no doubt that he'd turn me into a begging, trembling mass within minutes of returning to the room.

In fact, I was counting on it.

TBC...


	41. Chapter 41

**A/N: Let's play a little catch up and meet John Strathmore**

**Strathmore POV**

* * *

The workday had been interminable, although this particular day usually was.

_This_ day.

The one that came after yesterday.

Yesterday was technically the dreaded day, and yet today was always worse.

Because today, I added remorse to my grief. I added regret and guilt and shame on top of the already nearly breath-taking pain.

And it was ridiculous.

Ten years had passed. Ten years and yet I couldn't seem to move on.

I continued to feel an ache so fresh and new that I desperately tried to make it all go away by committing a myriad of mind-numbing sins.

Yesterday I'd worked, like always.

And then I'd gotten onto my private jet and flown to Vegas where I'd proceeded to play the blackjack tables, drinking until I was sufficiently smashed.

And then I'd acquiesced to a bride-to-be and her best friend who were in town for a last night of freedom. Apparently for the one facing nuptials, her dying wish was a threesome with her best friend and a stranger.

Sounds pretty good, right? I'm loaded, literally and figuratively, and I've got two gorgeous twenty-somethings who want to come back to my room.

And okay, so it did sound good at the time. Looking at the world through bourbon-tainted glasses will do that to a guy.

But then I woke up this morning.

The bride-to-be was scrambling around the room gathering her clothes while her friend waited impatiently by the door moaning that she was going to be late.

For _class._

My groan alerted them to my state of wakefulness, and the still-naked girl flashed me a smile.

"Thanks for last night," she said in a shy voice, which was absurd since while she spoke she was stepping into her underwear.

"My pleasure," I answered, even though I felt like I wanted to throw up.

But deep down, I'm a gentleman and it wasn't her fault that I loathed myself at the moment.

"Sorry we can't stay longer. We could've gone another round," she offered suggestively.

"Sweetheart, I don't think I'd survive another round with the two of you."

She giggled appreciatively while she finished dressing.

"Jennifer, come _on_," the impatient friend said. "It starts in thirty minutes."

"Please tell me that you're talking about a college class," I mumbled as I ran my hand over my face.

"Well, duh. What did you think, that we're in high school?" she retorted.

"We're sophomores at UNLV," the girl who I now knew to be Jennifer explained.

Sophomores. Great. Nineteen? Twenty? I didn't even want to know.

"Bye, John," Jennifer told me, leaning down to kiss my cheek. "You're a really sweet guy."

And then they were gone and my self-flagellation began.

_Sweet guy, my ass. You're a fucking asshole who just slept with some guy's future wife…_and_ her friend…not to mention the fact that their combined ages don't even equal mine…_

My ringing cell phone split through my head like a jackhammer. I grabbed it quickly and punched the button.

"What?" I shouted.

"I'm out front, Mr. Strathmore. Your flight plan indicated that you wanted to leave Las Vegas at nine o'clock, right?"

"Yeah," I sighed. "Yeah, what time is it?"

"Eight."

"Give me fifteen minutes and I'll be down."

The hang over and guilt stayed with me all the way back to New Jersey.

Because money could do a lot of things for a person, but it couldn't bring back the dead.

And ten years ago, my fiancé had been killed by a mugger while on a business trip in Denver.

One morning, I was kissing her goodbye before she left for the airport and that night, I got the call from the Denver Police.

She'd been in the wrong place at the wrong time, they'd said. As though that would ease my pain.

And ten years might seem like a long time. Certainly long enough for me to have moved on and found someone new. Or at the very least, not go on a drinking binge every year to mark the anniversary of her death.

But I still just felt lost without her. I'd never known my mother. My father was long gone. And I'd learned when I was young that being rich meant I also had to be vigilant. Too many people wanted to be my friend just so that they could get a handout.

Heidi wasn't like that. She'd truly loved me for me.

Three hundred and sixty-three days out of the year, I was generally able to function.

I stayed aloof with most people.

Truthfully, Rocco was probably my closest friend, and yet even he was paid to stay with me.

But still, most of the time I was fine. I'd thrown myself into my work and the business had flourished.

But on that day, _yesterday_…I always went somewhere different. Somewhere that I would be fairly anonymous.

And then I got drunk and got laid.

And then on this day, _today_, I felt tremendously guilty for sullying Heidi's memory.

So, when I was into my last hour before I could escape the office, and Jessica buzzed me to tell me that I had visitors, there was no way I wanted to see any one.

I told her no, downed my twelfth aspirin of the day, and leaned back in my chair with a sigh.

_Those girls weren't even twenty-one_.

Thank God they were at least eighteen. I could see the headlines now: _New Jersey millionaire convicted of taking indecent liberties with a minor…no, make that _two_ minors._

"Mr. Strathmore," Jessica said through my intercom for the second time in as many minutes.

"What is it?"

"They say it pertains to Shannon McMahon."

Now she had my attention. My mother? I couldn't fathom a reason why anyone would want to talk to me about my mother, unless it was reporters who were trying to dig up dirt.

"She's been dead for fifty years," I replied firmly. "If there's still some kind of debt, have them leave it with you. Otherwise they can make an appointment like everyone else."

That was what I needed today. Something _else _to think about.

I hadn't heard that woman's name mentioned in decades, and I honestly had no interest in hearing about her now.

Comfortable in the abilities of my receptionist, I settled back against my chair again and closed my eyes. Never underestimate the benefit of a good power nap.

Thirty minutes later, I startled awake, still feeling quite rough around the edges.

Power nap, hell. What I needed was a good night's sleep.

In my own bed.

Alone.

I stepped into the bathroom and washed my face. I was still a few minute early, but I decided to leave anyway. Hey, it was my company. I could leave whenever I felt like it.

But as I stepped out of the building and headed for my car, I saw a woman and a man get out of a car up the street.

The man walked around my car while the woman came toward me on the sidewalk.

"Mr. Strathmore!" she called out. "I just need a minute."

Great. Fucking reporters. How the hell had they heard about last night already?

"She told me she was twenty-one," I said quickly. And I absolutely was not going to admit to being with _two_ of them. "What am I supposed to do, check her ID?"

But apparently they weren't press. They were cops.

"It'll only take a second," the woman said.

"Do you have a warrant?"

Which was kind of a stupid question. What would they have a warrant for? What had I done wrong, other than show a complete lack of good morals?

"No. Just a few questions."

I wasn't going to stand on the sidewalk and argue about it. Besides, the big guy looked like he might be able to take Rocco. But I also wasn't going to miss my meeting.

So I let them in the car.

They both stared at me almost to the point where I felt uncomfortable. I was sweating again, and I swear I could smell the damn liquor from last night.

Or maybe I was just having a tell-tale heart moment.

Maybe it was all my imagination.

Besides, it's not like it was against the law to get drunk.

"I didn't catch your names," I said.

I was hoping the drive would go quickly. I just wanted to get to my meeting, let the group tell me how normal my behavior is for someone still embroiled in grief, and then go home and go to bed.

And then they admitted that they weren't cops, but rather investigators.

Which meant that they'd been _hired_ to speak with me.

By whom? Obviously, they were the ones who had mentioned my mother's name, but my pickled brain was struggling to piece together the purpose.

"We're trying to find out if you've met with this woman," the woman, Alex, told me as she pulled out a picture.

I was surprised to find that I actually did remember the woman. I told them how I'd seen her at a museum opening. She had been relentless in her pursuit of me that night, but something about her had sounded my internal gold-digger alarm.

"You turned her down?" the woman asked me.

"She's not exactly my type."

"Which type is that?" she retorted. "Someone less than half your age?"

Ah, so she was smart.

She'd picked up on my off-hand comment.

And she was fearless.

She clearly had no trouble calling a spade a spade, and right now, she was calling me a cradle-robber.

Which last night, I guess I was. Her candor demanded my respect, so instead of telling her to go to hell, I decided to answer.

"My type is someone interested in me for me and not for my money. It's tough to distinguish the difference sometimes, but I had no trouble seeing the motivation in that one."

But I did have trouble seeing how she related to my mother, so that was my next question. And when the man, whose gaze I found myself wanting to squirm away from, intimated that it was all related, a new fear hit me.

"Please do not tell me that this woman is my sister."

Not that I was appalled by the notion of having a sibling out there somewhere. The possibility had crossed my mind before, however briefly.

But not a woman like this. I could still smell her perfume even a year after having her rub shamelessly up against me in a crowded museum.

Mr. Goren then called me out on the fact that I'd said my mother died fifty years ago.

He was smart, too. And direct. And intense. For some reason, I felt the overwhelming urge to tell him things.

"I…had…my doubts," I said at last.

"That your mother was dead?"

I nodded, and then Rocco saved me. It was time for my meeting.

But still, my curiosity was burning. I had forgotten about the hangover. About last night. About everything except the matter at hand.

"Who is this woman?" I asked.

And their answer blew me away. She was a con artist who played rich men for their money, and then killed them off when she was done.

And she was after me.

"Should I be concerned?"

"Not necessarily, but you definitely need to be apprised of the full situation."

"Mr. Strathmore," Rocco said again.

I knew that I needed to go, but I had to know more.

Why was this woman after me? What was her plan, considering I'd already turned her down?

And better yet, how did they plan to go about stopping her?

And then I had an idea.

I offered to put them up in one of my hotels. That would be a sign of good faith on my part. After my meeting, I would meet them for dinner at which point I could get the rest of the information.

So we made the deal, and I sent them on their way, knowing that Rocco would make sure they got where they needed to go.

And by the time I got into my meeting, I was feeling better than I had in a long time.

Puzzled, maybe. And definitely intrigued. But better.

I was pleased to find that the Gorens were already seated when I arrived at the restaurant. We dispensed quickly with the pleasantries and got to business, although I still had the sense that I was being sized up.

But I can read between the lines with the best of them, and it didn't take long to learn why.

"So…I have a brother," I stated.

And the feeling of dread that I'd had earlier when I'd considered that _woman _might be my sibling was no where to be found.

Instead, I was curious.

A brother.

I instantly wondered who he was, what he did, what kind of man he was. Did he have a wife? Kids?

Wait, they'd said a business partner. So he was an investigator like them?

"A half-brother, yes," Alex stated, as though she wanted to keep a small amount of distance between us by distinguishing that we only shared _one_ parent.

And it felt strange thinking of the woman as _Alex _in my head considering we'd just met, but they'd both insisted on dropping the formalities and now I knew why.

Things were clicking into place.

They were _friends_ with him. _With my brother_. They were checking me out.

But then another thought hit me. Wasn't this the oldest con in the book?

One con supposedly protects the mark from another con, inciting his trust and ultimately making him more vulnerable…

"And how am I supposed to know that this isn't part of the whole grand scam?" I asked them as I looked them both over. I wanted to judge their reaction. I had to know if this was for real. "You bring me into your confidence, you tell me this sad story, and now suddenly I have a blood relative who wants to be in my will."

Alex was angered, her face flushing red in an instant.

But Bobby seemed more calm, almost as though he'd expected the question. He explained the situation.

Mike, _my brother_, didn't want my money. But Rhonda thought that he would. She thought he'd come after me to get it, and then share it with her.

It all sounded like a television show to me. And not even a network show, but something on cable.

"What if I don't want to help you? Then what?"

"Then maybe we catch her and maybe we don't. Maybe she finds another way into your bank account. Maybe she kills your brother's wife for real next time."

My brain malfunctioned on the words _brother's wife_.

He had a woman who loved him, one who'd committed to him, like Heidi was going to commit to me.

Were they happy? Or were they one of those couples who were married, but not really because they did everything separately?

"He has a wife?" I asked. And then I thought of the last part of Bobby's statement. "And this woman tried to kill her?"

"She thinks that she already has."

_What?_

"I don't understand. I think you skipped over a lot of the details."

"We thought that maybe Mike could fill you in on the rest," Bobby told me carefully.

The implication of his words had me at once elated and terrified. But I've never been one to back down due to fear.

"Is he here in Atlantic City? I want to meet him."

And thirty minutes later, I did.

He and his wife followed Alex toward the table, and I couldn't help but stare. They hadn't told me how much we looked alike.

But then things turned slightly awkward when Mike's phone rang.

"I'm Carolyn," his wife introduced when Mike stepped away to take the call. "Sorry, that's the detective who's been following our suspect, so…"

"It's fine," I assured her.

"I'm so glad that we could meet," she told me pointedly.

She was a lovely woman, with a shy hesitant smile, but I got the feeling that she would take me down in a second if I was rude to her husband.

"It's my pleasure," I replied. "How…um…how long have you two been married?"

"Not long," she answered. "Since Christmas Eve officially, although we sort of did it before then, too."

She waved a hand dismissively as though she'd said more than she intended. I watched as she and Alex exchanged a few silent words and I found myself wanting to be a part of their world.

I'd missed people.

I'd missed having relationships.

I'd been all about business for so long, closing myself off to the possibility of becoming close with anyone just to avoid the risk of getting hurt again.

I caught Mike's approach out of the corner of my eye, so I stood again, eager to have the chance to talk with him.

"It's good to meet you," I said, but I noticed right away that something was wrong.

"You, too. And I...I'm sorry. I need you to excuse us for just a minute," he told me, his gaze settling on Bobby. "We need to talk."

"Mike, what's going on?" Carolyn asked. "What did Lupo say?"

Lupo. One of the detectives on the case. I filed that name in my mental rolodex, and watched as Mike seemed completely at war with himself.

It was an expression I'd seen in the mirror on numerous occasions.

I couldn't stand to see him so conflicted. And I also didn't want him to be in a hurry to get back to the city, so I killed two birds with one stone.

I left them alone and went to the front desk to arrange a room for them. I chatted up the clerk for a few minutes before venturing back into the restaurant.

"So is everything okay?"

Mike stood up and shook my hand again, this time looking me straight in the eye.

Apparently, whatever crisis was going on had been temporarily smoothed over.

"Yes. Just another new twist to Rhonda's game. Welcome to our world."

_Welcome to their world_…I hoped he meant that because for some reason that idea was very appealing to me.

And for the next half hour, I found myself entertained by the foursome at the table.

They were obviously a close-knit group, and I felt an odd blend of envy and loss at the clear showing of love and devotion between Mike and his wife.

It was almost fitting that they came into my life _today_.

Although it might've been better _yesterday_.

"How soon can we get started on this?" I asked.

I wanted to do this. I wanted to burn this con woman who had messed with my brother.

"Tomorrow," Mike said. "I think that I should call her in the morning and tell her that I can't wait anymore. And then I'll call you."

His seriousness reminded me that it wasn't a game. This was real and it was potentially dangerous.

If I screwed it up, there could be lives at stake.

"How will it work? What are you going to say?"

Carolyn spoke up, warning me about how it might sound. Mike was going to be coming after my money. I knew that, but I appreciated that she was concerned that I might take his words to heart.

"You mean I shouldn't get offended."

"Or think for a second that it's true," Mike added. "My script will be along the lines of _some of that money is rightfully mine_."

"And what if I just say no?" I proposed. Because in all seriousness, if this situation were to happen to me for real, that's what I'd say. I would never cave to a shake down. "Why would I agree to it?"

So Mike explained his plans for blackmail. It was smart. A well-known name like mine was a gold mine for the press, so if word got out that there was scandal in my past, it would be printed. Again and again.

But the part that most disturbed me was the possibility that some of his story was true.

"Is that part true? She was an alcoholic?"

My question brought about the departure of the Gorens. I had no doubt that they knew the answer to my question, and I certainly didn't mind them staying, but they went on their way, claiming the need for a walk on the boardwalk.

"They're newlyweds, too," Carolyn said after they left. "They got married a couple of weeks before we did."

"Really? You'd never guess it. They act like they've been together for years."

"In a way, they have," Mike replied vaguely.

But then he came back to my question. "She was an alcoholic for as long as I remember."

"I'm sorry," I told him. "It must have been tough on you."

He shrugged noncommittally, but I noticed that his arm shifted. He was undoubtedly seeking out his wife's hand under the table.

There was more to this.

But maybe it was too much for tonight.

I wanted to know him, but I didn't have to know it all right now. And I certainly didn't need to be poking at old wounds.

Instead, I sat back in my chair and picked up my drink.

"So, tell me how you two met."

TBC...


	42. Chapter 42

**Logan POV**

* * *

It was Thursday morning, and I awoke with a fresh outlook.

I _liked_ my brother.

I didn't know him all that well yet.

And I certainly didn't trust him just yet.

But so far, I liked him.

He was so much more than my expectations.

Like I said, I had for some reason been expecting a male version of my mother.

Sullen, bitter, vicious.

He was none of those things, although I had picked up on an underlying sadness. Loneliness maybe, and I wondered if we were more similar than I'd first thought.

We'd spent the evening chatting about personal things. Sort of. I guess I had more or less focused only on the past few years, and I noticed that he did the same thing.

We didn't talk about our childhoods.

We talked about our jobs, and of course I talked about Carolyn. She'd left us alone about an hour after the Gorens had left, and I took that opportunity to bring John up to speed on how Rhonda had first come into my life.

He'd been extremely empathetic about what I considered to be one of the worst decisions of my life.

"Heartbreak will make you do crazy things," he'd said simply, without offering to elaborate. "It's just your bad luck that it came back to bite you in the ass. Otherwise, you'd never have given that woman a second thought."

And that was true. It wasn't like Rhonda had been my only poor choice of bedmate. She was just the one who'd come back to haunt me.

I forced thoughts of Rhonda from my head. The last thing I wanted to do was have that woman on my brain while I was in the bed with Carolyn.

"What time do we need to leave?" Carolyn murmured sleepily. Her head was resting on my chest and her leg was slung over mine.

She'd already been asleep by the time I'd come up to the room last night, but I loved the way she'd immediately sought me out as soon as I'd climbed in the bed, plastering her body against mine.

And then we'd barely budged all night.

"We've got an hour," I replied quietly, pressing a kiss onto the top of her head and squeezing my arm tighter around her.

"What time did you get in?"

"It was after three."

"So I'm guessing it went well?"

"It did. We've got a lot of catching up to do, but so far so good. And he's ready for today. He said he'd clear his calendar and make time for whatever we needed."

"Pretty impressive for a man of his stature."

"Yeah, I guess. It's funny because once I started talking with him, I forgot about how much money he has."

"I told you," she replied, shifting her leg so that it rubbed against me in exactly the right spot.

"You…told me…what?" I managed to ask.

"He's just a man," she said softly. "And he's no better than you just because he has money."

"I know," I admitted slowly, closing my eyes against the sensations she was creating with that one smooth leg.

"So, how much time do we have?" she asked again, and this time her intent was clear. She ran her hand lightly over my chest, and increased the pressure of her leg against me.

"We have all the time in the world."

And we didn't. Not really.

But that wasn't going to keep me from spending the next thirty minutes or so making love to my wife.

Our last couple of times together had been about something else. They'd been intense and physical.

This morning was slow and purposeful and was just about love.

Of course, that meant that when we finished, we had to get ready quickly, but we made it.

We met the Gorens in the lobby at eight.

"I talked with Lupo this morning," Goren said. "According to the GPS that he put on Rhonda's car, she's headed back into the city."

"To wait for me, no doubt," I said in exasperation.

"How'd it go last night?" Alex asked me.

"Really well," I replied. "You guys didn't have to leave, you know."

"We know," Goren answered. "But Alex had to take down a cell-phone wielding criminal out on the boardwalk, so…"

"That's great, Bobby, thanks," she retorted, but his grin was infectious and she laughed at him, even as she bumped against him with her shoulder.

"Spill it," I said, the sight of their amusement bringing a smile to my face as well.

"I was just being cautious," Alex said. "He was standing in the shadows."

"You had a guy come after you?" Carolyn asked.

"He needed to use our phone," Goren explained.

"And?" I asked, knowing that there was more.

"And Alex took him down to the ground in about two seconds."

I laughed at the visual, but only for a minute, because then it hit me why she was being overly cautious. Because Bobby was on Rhonda's hit list and so she was afraid for his life.

It was time to get this show on the road.

So we drove back to the city and it took over three hours this time, since Carolyn wouldn't let me use the lights or siren.

"I think I need to go home," I stated to Carolyn as we pulled into the meat wagon entrance of the morgue. The Gorens had parked along the front of the building since they didn't need the subterfuge.

"Rhonda needs to know that I'm there," I continued. "I've spent too many nights away from the house, and if I'm just coming back into town from working on a case…"

"I agree," Carolyn said quickly. "She'll expect you to be there."

"I'll just call her and tell her that I can't quit thinking about John."

"Strathmore," Carolyn corrected. "_Strathmore_."

"I know. Sorry," I said with a shake of my head.

It was a slip up that I couldn't afford to make while Rhonda was listening because it intimated too much familiarity, and yet I was pleased with myself for already thinking of him as such.

Except that I still called Goren _Goren_, not Bobby. Why was that?

What did it mean that I was using a first name for Strathmore whom I'd known for twelve hours and yet still a last name for Goren, my brother in every other sense of the word?

"Mike?"

"Yeah," I answered without thought.

"Hey," she said, this time putting her palm against my cheek to get my attention. "Where'd you go?"

"I was just…um…analyzing my slip."

She eyed me carefully, and I had the crazy feeling that the woman could literally read my mind.

"And?" she encouraged, and I felt slightly relieved that she had to ask.

"I still call Goren _Goren_."

"You've always known him as that. He's a cop. You've always called him by his last name. That doesn't mean anything."

"I call Alex by her first name."

"Only now that she's a Goren, too," she pointed out.

I thought about that for a second. Was that true? Yeah, I guess so. I did call her Eames before then.

"Okay," I agreed. "Maybe I'm just feeling a little guilty that I liked him as much as I did."

"Bobby doesn't expect you not to like him," she reasoned. "Just don't leave him out in the cold."

"I would never…"

"I know," she interrupted. "So quit worrying."

"You're right," I said. I pulled her hand from my face and brought it to my lips, kissing her palm. "Okay, my head's in the game. I'm calling Rhonda, and telling her that I can't stop thinking about Strathmore."

"Right. You deserve some of the money and you don't want to wait."

"Then I'll call him and arrange a meeting for tonight. The sooner we can get this over with, the better."

"You can do this," she encouraged quietly. "We're in the home stretch now."

"I know. We're good, right?" I asked her, once again hating to leave her.

My mind was made up. When we closed this case, I was going to take her away somewhere, just the two of us.

"We're perfectly fine. Do what you have to do and let's finish this thing, okay?"

"Consider it done."

So I left my wife and drove to our house. I hadn't been inside for a minute when I got a text from Rhonda.

_**When are you coming home, baby? I miss you.**_

As if she didn't know that I was home. Please.

But this was fine. The sooner I bit the bullet and made the call, the better. I didn't want to just toil around my house all day anyway. So I dialed her number and she answered on the first ring.

"Mikey?"

"It's me, sugar," I answered, cringing at the term. But I knew that she liked it, so it would keep her happy.

"I just sent you a text."

"I know. I got it. I'm home, and I've been thinking a lot about this Strathmore asshole, and you know…I just don't want to wait any more. I think I need to call him today and set up a meeting."

"It won't be that easy. He doesn't just see anyone."

_Yeah, and I wonder how you know that, you psycho…_

"I know. I've got a story worked up. Can you do it tonight? If I can get him to come?"

"I'd rather try to get _you_ to come tonight," she said in a predatory voice. I was suddenly glad that I hadn't had lunch yet, or I might've lost it at that suggestion.

"There'll be plenty of time," I answered. "After the meeting, okay?"

Which meant that I'd just pinned myself in again.

How in the hell was I going to escape getting molested by this woman?

She was relentless. I'd have to make sure that tonight was it. I'd set up the meeting, we'd get her to say the words, and then we'd throw her ass in jail.

"Oh, come on baby," she replied. "We've got some time now, don't we?"

"No, I'm going to make this call, and then I have to go to the office."

"Wait for me."

"What? When?" I asked sharply, my surprise at her directive almost causing me to blow my cover.

"I want to be there while you make the call. Give me fifteen minutes."

And then she hung up.

_Shit_.

I didn't want her in my home.

And yeah, she'd come been here before when she'd placed the bugs, but still…now we'd be alone.

I had a feeling that no man on earth had ever prayed for erectile dysfunction, but I was sure as hell doing it now.

I had to do something, so I quickly sent a text to Goren. _Bobby_.

_**I need help. She's on her way here to listen while I make the call.**_

A minute later, I got a reply.

_**We've got you covered. Don't panic.**_

And so I didn't.

If Bobby had my back, then I was golden.

Ten minutes after I hung up with Rhonda, she was on my doorstep. But instead of inviting her in, I stepped out onto the front porch with her.

"What's wrong?" she asked me as I closed the front door behind us.

"Nothing. I just thought…I don't know. I'm not feeling all that great today, and I thought a little fresh air might help."

"Oh, poor Mikey," she cooed as she ran her hand across my forehead. "You're making yourself sick about this, aren't you? I'm so sorry, baby."

She was annoyingly sympathetic, but she allowed me to sit on the front step. She sat beside me as close as she could possibly get, and then ran her fingernails along my thigh.

"We need to get you in the bed, Mikey," she said quietly.

"No," I insisted. "I think I just need to eat something. Then I've got to get back to work. If we're going to do this, I don't want to leave any of my clients hanging."

"Why not? What difference does it make? You'd be better off to run that business into the ground so that loser Goren will be ruined."

"Yeah, maybe," I agreed slowly. "But, still…Alex is there, too, and I don't want her to suffer because of all of this."

"Oh, my good-hearted Mikey…you're such a sweetie."

She kissed my cheek, undoubtedly leaving a bright red spot of lipstick in her wake, and then handed me a phone.

"Here, use this one to make the call. It's untraceable."

So I did. I got Jessica, who'd been made aware to expect my call, and she gave me just the right amount of a hard time.

"Sir, I'll need your name if you think that you even have a chance of talking with Mr. Strathmore."

"You don't need my name. Just tell him that his brother is on the phone."

"Mr. Strathmore doesn't have a brother. Try again."

"Actually, he does," I said sharply. "And you can get him on the phone, or I'll be filing a lawsuit against him and Malloy Enterprises. By the end of the month you'll be lucky to be answering phones for the Motel 6."

I glanced at Rhonda, and saw that she was looking at me with unadulterated awe.

_This was working_.

In another minute, John was on the phone.

"What the hell is all of this about? Who is this?"

"It's your little brother," I answered. "And I think that you and I have some business to attend to."

And it went on from there.

He handled his end brilliantly, never giving any indication that he'd had any clue about me before.

In fact, we both did so well that I had another wave of nausea come over me by the time I hung up the phone.

I'd just told him that I was entitled to a hundred million dollars of his money.

"Mikey, that was great! Maybe you do have a knack for a life of crime!"

"Don't get the wrong idea," I said, fighting back the bile as my words rambled in my head and her hands roamed over the fabric of my button-down shirt.

I didn't have a coat on and it was barely forty degrees, but I'd broken out in a cold sweat.

"This is different," I insisted. "That money is rightfully mine."

"Oh, I know, baby. I know," she purred, her lips moving along my jaw and up to my ear. "We'll get this money and we'll be in Las Varas by the weekend."

"That sounds perfect," I agreed weakly.

"You don't have to go to work now, do you baby? Can't we have some play time first?"

She ran her hand over my crotch, tightening her fingers over me. I scooted backwards on the step in an effort to escape her.

_Come on, Bobby_…

I trusted him implicitly, and I could probably hold her off for another few minutes, but I wasn't sure I could last that long without throwing up.

And then I heard a loud engine, and a booming voice.

"Hey! Logan!"

I looked up and saw the white knight who'd come to rescue me.

It was Lewis.

TBC...

A/N: If you like Lewis, thank Mitzvahgirl. I forgot all about him. :) And this is all until Monday! Three days in a row of two chapters each...feels like old times!


	43. Chapter 43

**Bobby POV**

* * *

We got back to the morgue and got down to business.

I knew that we didn't have a lot of time. Logan was going to call Rhonda and then Strathmore. A meeting would be set up for tonight, so we needed to get all of our ducks in a row.

We'd pretty much taken over the entire autopsy suite, considering there were so many of us working here now, and it seemed that every available surface contained a laptop and numerous files.

"I'm going to get started on the newspaper clippings," Carolyn said.

She was working on creating the supporting material for Mike to use as blackmail.

Shannon Logan had been a despicable woman, but Carolyn was going to turn her into someone who was _visibly_ shameful. Someone who, once tied to Strathmore, would create a gossipy news story for the local papers, and would be an embarrassment for the otherwise scandal-free entrepreneur.

I knew that the task would help to keep Carolyn's mind occupied while Mike was off doing his unenviable job.

"How bad can I make her?" she asked with an unrepentant gleam in her eye. She hated Mike's mother, but so did I, so I wasn't about to rein her in.

"Hey, it's a rare opportunity. Enjoy yourself," I told her. She gave me a nod and found a spot to work at a table along the far wall.

Alex and I wandered over to the other half of the room. Liz had a body on the table, but it was covered up with a sheet.

"Just finishing or getting ready to start?" I asked her.

"Sorry, detective, but you missed the fun and games," she replied wryly. "It was necrotizing fasciitis. I think you would've liked it a whole lot more than him."

She nodded in the direction of Lupo, who sat at another table with files spread out around him. Despite the apparent disarray, I had no doubt that he knew exactly what was where.

"What do we have on her real bank account?" I asked him, pleased that he'd come here to work even though he'd been out late last night on the trip to Trenton.

"Give me a second," he replied without looking up. His phone must have been buzzing because then he put it to his ear and quickly struck up a conversation. In Chinese.

I looked over at Alex who just shrugged and sat down at another computer.

"What, you think you're the only one who speaks another language?" she asked wittily.

"No, I just…."

"Seven," Rodgers interrupted.

"What?"

"Detective Lupo speaks seven languages."

"Really?" Alex asked with feigned interest.

Of course, I hadn't realized until we'd gotten together that she was a sucker for a foreign language, although she'd since expounded upon that to say that it was _me_ speaking another language that got her going, not just anyone.

But still, she liked to tease me about it. And I liked that she liked to. That meant that she trusted my confidence in our relationship.

"It comes in handy in Intelligence," Liz explained, not catching on to our inside joke.

"Uh huh," Alex agreed. "I wonder if he speaks Italian?"

"I don't know, but I…can…" Liz answered, trailing off as she caught the looks between me and Alex. "Did I miss something?"

"No," I answered quickly.

And even though I enjoyed it, she was going to pay for that little taunt later tonight. I might have to get her to settle up on our bet.

But work came first, and so I forced from my head the image of Alex, naked and begging for me to _scopare…_

"We've got her," Lupo said as he hung up the phone. "She's withdrawing cash from an account under the name of Michelle Watkins and then she's putting it into Renee Yoder's account."

"Michelle Watkins?" Liz asked. "Who is that?"

"I don't know," Lupo admitted. "But I don't think it really matters. We know which account she uses to keep the stolen money. Now we can trace it."

"And we can be ready for the meeting," Alex added. "Strathmore can wire funds into her account for her, because we'll take over control of it. We'll be able to establish the receipt of extortion money as opposed to just the threat of extortion. That's additional years added to her sentence."

My phone buzzed, and I pulled it out to check the text. It was from Mike.

_**I need help. She's on her way here to listen while I make the call.**_

"Rhonda wants to be there," I said loudly, my mind already in high gear to come up with an escape plan for him.

"Who can we send?" Carolyn asked as she got up from the table and crossed the room. "We're down to just Lupo as far as unknowns go, unless we bring in someone else."

"It doesn't necessarily have to be a cop," Alex said. "Just someone to go run interference after they make the call. It shouldn't be dangerous."

"Don't you guys have any other friends?" Lupo asked.

"Do you?" Alex countered, but he just shrugged, so she added, "Mike mentioned something about a blonde?"

"She's not…" he began in frustration, but then he shook his head and waggled his finger at her. "Uh, no. Sorry, but she has a day job."

"I got it," I said. "I'll call Lewis."

I quickly replied to Mike, letting him know that we were on it, and then I dialed Lewis. I'd been meaning to call him again anyway, and I knew that he'd love the excitement of being involved.

"What do you need?"

That's how he answered the phone.

And I knew that he was just giving me a hard time but I still felt kind of bad.

I really needed to call him more often. I'd called him on Monday to tell him about Carolyn, but our conversation had been cut short and I hadn't been able to explain much.

Before that, it had been several weeks.

But still, I knew that I could always depend on Lewis, so I plowed ahead with my favor.

"You can kick my ass later, Lewis, but right now Logan needs your help."

**

* * *

**

Rhonda POV

I didn't know who the grinning idiot was, but I did know one thing. He was cutting into my time with Mikey.

And that was unacceptable.

But apparently, it was okay with Mikey because he got up from the steps and walked towards the man.

"Lewis!" he greeted enthusiastically. "It's been too long."

_Lewis._ What kind of a name was that?

I eyed the two men carefully as they gave each other the quintessential male hug, complete with lots of back slapping.

"I wanted to come by sooner. I'm sorry to hear about Carolyn."

Ah, so he knew _the bitch_. Whatever.

I decided to stay on the porch and let Mikey send the man on his way.

"So, what can I do for you?" Mikey asked him, and I was happy to see him deflect the sympathy.

"Well, you were looking into that…little problem that I was having," the man said, shifting his eyes to me uncertainly. "And I was hoping you could wrap that up today."

"Something's going on?"

"Yeah, she um…she said that she um…has to work, but um…when I called the office, they said that um…she gets off at two, so I thought that it would be a good time to um…you know, follow her."

My ears perked up at the man's story.

He was having his woman followed? I was mildly intrigued. If I wasn't going to get to have sex, maybe I could at least watch someone else have sex.

I stood up and went down the sidewalk to where the two men stood near the curb.

"Mikey, you didn't introduce me to your friend," I said coyly as I slid my hand around Mikey's waist. I wanted to be sure to establish my position since Lewis had apparently known _her_.

"He's a client, actually. And an old acquaintance. Lewis Cheever, Rhonda Hagen."

He stuck his hand out, but I ignored it.

"What's her name?" I asked him.

"Her?"

"The cheating girlfriend."

He cringed at my words, looking truly upset by that possibility.

"Erica."

"Who do you think she's hooking up with?"

"Um…I'm not sure, but um…I think it's a…um…former detective."

"She likes cops, huh? I can understand that," I replied with a shrug.

Then I leaned in closer to Mikey and whispered into his ear.

"So, you're going to be playing private dick this afternoon?"

"It's not playing, sugar. It's my job," he replied.

"Can I come?"

"Actually," Lewis spoke up. "I was going to um…see if I could ride along with you. I know you usually do good work with pictures, but um…sometimes the um…body language is important, too."

"Of course," Mikey answered. At my dismayed sound, he turned to me and added, "It's part of our agreement, sugar. I have to let him tag along."

Lewis checked his watch and then looked at me cautiously before shifting his gaze back to Mikey.

"It's um…twelve-thirty now, so we should probably…you know, get over to mid-town."

"Yeah, you're right," Mikey agreed.

Damn, I was going to be left in the cold again.

I seized Mikey by the arm and pulled him back a few steps.

"I thought we were going to have some time together," I whined.

"I told you that it would have to be tonight," he answered.

I continued to pout, but then he grabbed me roughly by the arms and pulled me to him for a bruising kiss.

"I said tonight, okay?" he said sharply after he pulled back.

And damn if that tone of voice and forceful nature didn't send a rush of arousal through me…I wasn't sure if I could wait until tonight. He had me on fire.

"Steve-O's at eight," he added gruffly. "I'll meet you there."

"And afterwards…" I said, my voice leaving no doubt as to what I expected, but just in case, I ran my hand along the front of his slacks as I kissed him again.

"That's right, sugar," he answered. "Just you and me."

Then he stepped away from me and got into his car, leaving Lewis' parked along the side of the road.

I sighed heavily and debated what to do next. I desperately needed to relieve some of this pent-up sexual tension. After all, I wanted to be able to exhibit some self-control tonight when I finally got Mikey alone.

So I went to my car and headed for Queens. I knew a good cop hangout there, and hopefully I wouldn't be in any danger of running into Lewis' girlfriend Erica on her afternoon tryst.

**

* * *

**

Lewis POV

After I hung up with Bobby, I grabbed my coat and headed for the car.

I had no idea what kind of a mess those guys had gotten themselves into, but I was glad that I'd been asked to help.

I'd gotten the short version of events.

Logan was at home with a barracuda, the same woman who'd ordered Carolyn's murder, and he needed rescuing. And I had to play along with the story that Carolyn was dead.

I hated even having that thought, but I knew it was for her safety.

Bobby had called me a few days ago to tell me that the news would be reporting her death, but that it was a fake report.

And even though I don't really know her all that well, I did know Logan, and I knew how much he loved her, and real or not, I still got a little choked up watching the newscast.

Unfortunately, Bobby and I didn't have time to talk past the basics, so I didn't know much more than that about what was going on.

But Logan needed someone to show up at his house with something that just couldn't wait.

What wouldn't wait? What kind of excuse could I use? Bobby hadn't told me what to say. Although, I guess I'd been so excited to help that I'd been in a hurry to get off the phone.

_Think, Lewis. _What would Bobby do?

Logan was a private investigator. They followed cheating spouses, right?

I could use that. I had a girlfriend. Well, sort of. We'd had four dates so far.

And one time when Alex was hanging out in my garage, she'd mentioned that it was easier to get away with a lie if you surrounded it in as much truth as possible. And I figured that she was good at it, because look how long she and Bobby had gotten away with hiding their relationship.

So I'd use Erica. I didn't think she'd mind. I would tell her about it later, and she'd probably get a kick out of it. I mean, she was in the business.

Sort of. She worked for the department as a crime scene photographer.

Bobby had actually been the one to fix us up, and I knew that she thought a lot of Alex, too, so she wouldn't mind helping them, even if it meant that I was using her name in an unsavory context.

So by the time I got to Logan's house, I had my story straight, but I was still nervous as hell.

And I don't know if I'd picked it up from Bobby or if he'd picked it up from me, but when I'm nervous, I tend to stutter.

I pulled up in front of the house, and was shocked to see Logan getting molested by the vamp on the front porch.

To get their attention, I revved up the engine hard before shutting it down and then I hopped out of the car.

"Hey! Logan!"

I can't remember the last time I saw anyone move so fast, or appear to be so grateful.

He called back to me and started walking towards me. He pulled me into a hug, and as he pounded me on the back, he said quietly, "Do you have the story, or am I doing it?"

"I got it," I answered, even though I suddenly wondered if maybe I should've let him do it.

I hadn't considered that.

Was that why Bobby hadn't told me what to say? Because he knew that Logan would think on his feet?

Well, it was too late now.

Logan stepped back from me, and so then I offered up my sympathy about Carolyn. I couldn't decide if I should even bring her up at all, but it _had_ only been four days, and surely a person would give their condolences.

Logan nodded at me, and then asked how he could help. That was my cue to start my story.

And unfortunately, that's when my nerves kicked in and I started stuttering.

Although, I guess it did make me look more upset about the whole situation.

Because if Erica _were_ cheating on me then I _would_ be upset.

Although I'm not sure that I'd hire a private investigator to follow her. And I'm not sure that I could consider it cheating when we'd only been out four times.

But that's beside the point.

I got through my story, and by the time I finished, the predator on the porch had joined us on the sidewalk.

"Mikey, you didn't introduce me to your friend," she said. Her voice was like oil, and I don't know how he kept from visibly reacting when she slipped her arm around his waist.

"He's a client, actually. And an old acquaintance. Lewis Cheever, Rhonda Hagen."

And even though I didn't know the full extent of this woman's resume, I was insanely pleased that Logan hadn't given her my real last name. Not that I thought she'd be a free woman much longer, not with the Super Friends on her trail, but still…

I offered to shake her hand, but she instead quizzed me for information. And even though I was the one who had fabricated the story, I still hated her calling Erica a cheater.

And then she asked me who the other guy was. I hadn't thought about that. My mind scrambled, still thinking of Alex's words.

_Keep it simple and use as much truth as possible._

So I used Bobby. Not by name of course, but in my head, I picked him.

"She likes cops, huh? I can understand that," Rhonda said casually, as though that explained everything. And in her mind, I guess it did.

I watched another nauseating exchange between her and Logan, and then she sent me into another bout of panic when said she wanted to ride along.

_Think, Lewis!_

"Actually," I said at last. "I was going to um…see if I could ride along with you. I know you usually do good work with pictures, but um…sometimes the um…body language is important, too."

Body language. That was good, right? That was something that Bobby would say.

Alex had told me that he was the best at interpreting body language.

And maybe she was biased, but probably not. He _was_ pretty perceptive.

Well, except when it came to the realization that Alex was in love with him.

_That _took him _forever_ to figure out.

Logan jumped on the notion that I should be allowed to ride with him, and he made it sound believable. I was really impressed with how he was handling her, but I figured that it was about time to wrap things up.

I looked at my watch, and then suggested that we needed to hit the road. Rhonda didn't like that at all, and she jerked him backwards to complain about them not spending enough time together.

My eyes nearly bugged out of my head when I saw him grab her and kiss her. He was being forceful with her, and even though she seemed to love it, it wasn't Logan at all.

I'd seen him with Carolyn a few times. He treated her like gold. I guess that was the point though.

This woman _wasn't_ Carolyn.

He promised to meet her later tonight, and for his sake, I prayed they had some kind of plan to have her arrested before then.

"I owe you a beer," Logan breathed out once we were in his car and driving toward Manhattan. "No, make that a whole damn keg. Thank you."

"You're welcome. What the hell was all of that? Isn't she the one who put a hit on Carolyn?"

"Yeah. We're drawing her in, that's all. She's tying her own noose at the moment."

"You're going to get her tonight?"

"That's the plan."

"For your sake, I sure hope it works."

We drove in silence for a little while.

I had no idea where we were going, but I didn't mind. I was still trying to get my heart rate back to normal after being in that woman's company for only a few minutes.

Logan must have ice water in his veins to be able to deal with her.

"So…Erica," Logan said after another minute.

"Yeah?" I asked, doing my best to sound challenging even though my face turned red at the mention of her name.

"How's that going?"

"It's fine," I replied evasively. And then I was afraid of what he thought, so I added, "And she's not cheating or anything. I just made that up."

"I know," he said on a laugh. "It was brilliant. You did great, Lewis."

"Thanks," I said. "So, where are we going?"

"To the morgue," he answered, giving me a smirk. "Where else?"

TBC...


	44. Chapter 44

**Ross POV**

* * *

I had miles of paperwork to catch up on after my wasted day in the commissioner's office, so Thursday morning when I got to work, I closed my office door and got to it.

I knew that things were going to heat up with the Hagen case today, and I was hoping to at least make a dent in the backlog by noon.

I did.

At twelve forty-five, Bernard knocked on my door.

"Got a minute, Cap?" he asked.

"Sure, come in."

"I'm headed over to the morgue now," he told me. "Lupes just called me. Logan made the connection with Strathmore and set up a meet for tonight at eight. Rhonda was there for the phone call and bought the whole story."

"So tonight is it," I stated.

"Looks that way."

"Get an ADA on the phone. We need to make sure that nothing falls through the cracks. See if one of them will come out with us tonight and listen as it goes down."

"I've been working on it, Cap, but I haven't gotten anyone to return my calls yet. They're still slammed from the Moran fallout. I'll keep on it."

I powered down my computer and got up from my desk.

I wanted to ask how things had gone with Logan and Strathmore last night, but Bernard probably didn't know. I needed to ask Logan. Or Goren. Well, Logan, because Goren wouldn't give up any personal information on Logan unless he had the go ahead.

And of course, I knew that the whole thing hadn't been a bust since the guy was obviously willing to work with us on the sting, but I didn't know about the personal aspect.

And oddly enough, I wanted to know.

"You coming with me?" Bernard asked.

"I'm in it this deep," I told him as I shut off the light. "I'm not getting out of the pool just yet."

So Bernard and I went to the morgue. Logan had arrived just ahead of us, along with another man with whom I was unfamiliar.

With the addition of me and Bernard, that put nine people in the autopsy suite.

Well, ten if you counted the corpse on the table.

The morgue was turning into a veritable convention center.

"This place looks like a NATO Command Center," Bernard said as he looked around at the various laptops and work stations.

"Only twice as efficient," Liz quipped.

And then she caught my eye and gave me a smile. She was thoroughly enjoying the fact that her morgue had been invaded. She had an adventurous streak in her that ran a mile deep.

I needed to remember that so I wouldn't ever let things get boring with us.

"So tonight at eight?" I asked Logan, who standing with Carolyn and looking over documents.

"At Steve-O's. Rhonda's comfortable with that place, and so are we. There are only two ways out of there, so it should be easy to cover, and there are plenty of windows."

"I'm going to be inside," Lupo spoke up. "I think it should be safe. I can alter my look just a little, but I'd be surprised if she'd be able to pick me out from the dozens of pictures her lackey took the other night."

"If she ever even saw them," Alex added. "We popped Archie that night, so it's possible that information never got handed over."

"Unless that's what they were doing in the Honda," Goren said with a smirk. "Although I didn't know that looking at pictures required that much motion."

"Depends on what kind of pictures," Liz said.

These guys were having way too much fun down here.

"We need an ADA," I reminded them. "Bernard hasn't gotten one to return his call yet."

Before I could finish my sentence, Lupo had his phone out.

"I'll get one," he said.

He quickly typed in a text message.

"Who are you going to get?" Bernard asked him, narrowing his eyes at him. "And what makes you think they'll call you back, when they won't call me?"

"Oh, I um…well…"

And then his phone rang.

"I guess they just like me better," Lupo said with a smile, and then he answered his phone.

"He's got an ADA on speed dial?" Carolyn asked.

"It's actually pretty smart," Logan replied. "And it looks like it works, huh?"

No one could argue with that logic, and a minute later Lupo hung up his phone.

"An ADA will be here in twenty minutes to go over the details with us, and then she'll meet us tonight at Steve-O's so that she can listen in."

"I'm impressed, Lupes," Bernard said.

"She?" Logan asked.

"Rubirosa."

"I don't think I know her," Logan said and then he lowered his voice to a mock-whisper and added, "She's not blonde, is she?"

I have no idea what prompted that question, but for some reason it made Lupo blush. I didn't know the man well enough to know if that was a regular occurrence, but I seriously doubted it.

"Okay," I said loudly, trying to get everyone back on track. "Let's be organized when she gets here then so that we don't look like a bunch of amateurs. How are we working this?" I posed, and then I looked at the unknown player in the room. "And who are you?"

"Oh, I'm Lewis McDaniel," he said, as though that told me anything. He kept looking at me like he was afraid that I was going to kick him out.

"Lewis is an old friend," Goren explained quickly. "He helped us intervene with Mike and Rhonda a little bit ago."

"We needed someone else who she didn't know," Alex added.

"That's fine," I said. "But unless he's on your payroll, he needs to stay out of the line of fire. Planning is okay, but he's not going anywhere near Steve-O's tonight."

"Oh, hey, that's fine," Lewis said, holding his hands up in front of him. "I've got a date tonight anyway."

"Erica?" Alex asked him with a grin.

I didn't wait to hear the answer, but instead started a rundown.

"So the meeting is at eight. When will Strathmore be in the city?"

"Any time now. He's checking into the Roosevelt, so we'll catch up with him when we finish up here."

"Didn't you just call him in Jersey?" Lupo asked.

"He's got his own helicopter," Goren said. "A Bell."

"Okay, good," I said. "So Logan, you and Rhonda are going to Steve-O's. Strathmore will meet you there. He's ready to pay to keep the story quiet, right?"

"A hundred million dollars."

"He has that kind of money?" Bernard asked.

"Let's just say that he wouldn't have to sell his helicopter to get it," Alex said. "Or his jet."

"He's going to wire it?" I asked.

"Right. We've got control of Rhonda's main account, even though by all appearances nothing has changed with it. With my phone, I can monitor the money transfer, so we'll have confirmation the second the money is in her account," Lupo said.

"Mike, we'll need you to get Rhonda to state the terms," Goren spoke up. "We can't let anything be left open to interpretation."

"Okay, what do we have?"

I looked up to see ADA Rubirosa come into the autopsy room. She didn't bat an eye at the fact that we were conducting a strategic meeting in the presence of a corpse, nor did she question the civilians in the room.

I stood back and let the Gorens and the Logans handle the briefing. This was their baby, after all.

And they'd done remarkable work at gathering irrefutable evidence against this woman. I had no doubt that she'd be behind bars for the rest of her life.

"I wish you would've called me sooner," Rubirosa said when they'd finished. And for some reason, when she said this, she looked pointedly at Lupo. "A recording of that phone call you made earlier today would've been helpful."

"I've been calling your office all day," Bernard argued.

"You didn't call _me_."

"Once you arrest her, you'll have a recording," Carolyn spoke up. "She's got bugs in our house. She'll have the recordings in her apartment."

"Well, actually, I didn't make the call from inside the house," Logan said. "I didn't want her…_in_ the house, so I met her out on the porch and made the call from there."

I could tell that Carolyn was touched by Logan's consideration, but at the same time, Rubirosa was right. A recording of the initial contact would've been helpful to establish Rhonda's role. We had other recordings of her encouraging Logan to go for Strathmore's money, and of course we had her research that she'd done in an effort to get his money herself, but like I said, we wanted nothing to slip through the cracks.

"Okay, so no recording," Rubirosa said. "That's okay. It would've been nice, but we'll have your testimony and we'll have Strathmore's testimony, so if you can get her to spell it out for him tonight, that should be enough. You guys have done a great job."

**

* * *

**

Lupo POV

My exuberance to get Connie involved nearly gave us away.

Logan was now suspicious although I just didn't have it in me to be upset about it.

Who was he going to tell? And what did it hurt if he did?

But aside from asking me if she was blonde, he didn't say a word, so I focused my mind on business rather than pleasure and listened as the plan was laid out.

"I wish you would've called me sooner," Connie said when they finished.

And the look she gave me served two purposes.

One, which I believe was her intent, was to scold me for not letting her know what I was involved with. She could've been helpful before now, and by waiting to bring her up to speed we could've possibly messed up the case.

The second thing that look did was have me struggling to keep my mind on work, because I'd seen that look in the bedroom before and it was usually followed up by her tearing off my clothes.

She was a passionate woman, in work and play, and I once again found my mind drifting to completely inappropriate thoughts.

"You guys have done a great job," Connie was saying as I mentally berated my unprofessionalism for the second time in only a few minutes.

Why was I having trouble working with her today? We'd worked dozens of cases together since we'd started sleeping together, and I hadn't had these kinds of concentration issues before.

"So we all know our assignments?" Alex asked.

"I'm meeting Rhonda at a few minute before eight. I'll actually go over to Steve-O's at seven forty-five. I'll get a table near the side wall, but one that's still visible through the front windows."

"I'm going to be inside the restaurant near the door," I spoke up. "She's less likely to consider me a threat in that position. Typically, the rear of the restaurant is where the lurkers hang out."

"So you're going to hide in plain sight," Connie said approvingly. "Nice, Lupo. What about you, Bernard?"

"Me and the Captain will be in a car down the block. We'll park as far away as we can while still keeping a visual. You can sit in with us, if you want."

"I think I will," Connie agreed.

"We'll be in another car parked in the opposite direction," Goren said. "We'll be close to the alley, just in case she tries to make a break for it."

"I'll sit in with them," Carolyn said with a nod toward the Gorens. Connie glanced at the other man, Lewis, but he shook his head.

"I'm going to be on a date. On the other side of town."

"And even though no one asked me," Rodgers spoke up. "I'm going to be in the car with you guys."

I watched the silent exchange between her and Captain Ross. I knew that they were married, but I had never seen them together, and it was entertaining to see my boss cave to his wife.

Although I probably would've too.

Hell, I'd give Connie anything she wanted, and I wasn't even married to her yet.

And then I nearly choked when I realized that my mind had subconsciously supplied the word _yet_ on the end of that thought, and everyone in the room turned to look at me.

"Are you okay?" Alex asked me. I nodded and held up a hand, even though I continued to cough. How the hell do you choke on _nothing_?

"Okay, so we're all set. Rhonda lays out the terms. Strathmore agrees and wires the money. It gets credited to the ghosted account, and then you make the arrest."

"And we'll be doing that part," Bernard spoke up. "Me and Lupes."

Ross cleared his throat loudly, so Bernard added, "And the Cap. Sorry, sir, I just meant…"

"I know," Ross said with a wave. "You guys take the rest of the day. We'll meet back here at six."

The room cleared fairly quickly. The Gorens headed for…wherever they went when they weren't working. Lewis went with them.

The Logans went to their hotel, presumably to meet up with Strathmore.

Connie followed them out, stating that she had to get back to the courthouse. _Cutter_ was waiting for her.

I gathered up my notes and pulled on my coat, my mood suddenly acerbic at the mention of her boss' name.

"Since when do you have Rubirosa's number on your phone?" Bernard asked me as he walked towards me.

I looked around and saw that Ross was still in the room, but he was talking with Rodgers.

"Since we had a few cases in a row with tainted searches," I replied. "I don't know about you, but I've had my ass reamed enough by Cutter. I thought it would be a good idea to have an ADA accessible when we needed one."

"Yeah," he agreed with a smile and a slow nod. "It's a good idea."

"Then what's the problem?"

"No problem at all," he replied, still grinning at me.

I liked Bernard.

As partners went, he was top-notch. I never had to worry about my back, whether we were up against the criminals or the brass.

But he was a little bit nosy. And it probably wouldn't bother me if I weren't trying to keep a secret, but since I was…

My phone buzzed, so I pulled it out and checked the text. It was from Connie.

_**I can be at your place by four.**_

And just like that, my sour mood was gone.

"Good news?" Bernard asked me.

"It's um…nothing. So, are we good? Six o'clock?"

"I'll be here."

Bernard left, and I took a minute to check the GPS monitor to see where Rhonda was this afternoon.

Queens, at a place called McGinty's. I knew that joint, and had a pretty good idea of what she was doing there. Logan had gotten her to T-minus ten seconds and then left her cold.

"Get out of here, Lupo. We'll need you sharp for tonight."

I looked up to see Ross with his hand on the door getting ready to leave.

"I'm going. I was just checking in on our favorite psycho."

"You'd better go now, detective. I'm getting ready to start another autopsy."

I grabbed my briefcase and headed for the door.

I had two hours to kill before Connie was meeting me for a matinee, and our suspect was in Queens, so I decided to do a little bit of recon at Steve-O's.

After all, it never hurt to have a back up plan in case everything went to hell.

TBC...


	45. Chapter 45

**Alex POV**

* * *

I felt a growing sense of excitement as we left the morgue.

This was it.

This was the day that we were going to take Rhonda down.

And even though things had really only started heating up since Saturday, it had still been a long time coming.

Because the Hagen case had originally been mine.

That was back when Bobby and I were moving in measured baby steps towards this relationship that we had now.

Back in those days, which was actually only a year or so ago, I'd spent a number of Saturdays in Lewis' garage watching Bobby work on the Shelby.

And yeah, I knew my way around an engine block. I could've probably helped.

But if I was under the hood, then how could I get a good look at Bobby's ass?

And however that might make me sound, I don't care. Because in those days, I had to take advantage of every opportunity that I could get.

So I'd sat on Lewis' workbench and drank a few beers and looked at said ass.

And one time, Lewis had caught me.

But he hadn't called me out on it. In fact, he'd let me stammer my way out of the situation, so that had endeared him to me even more.

I felt a little bad that we didn't spend more time with Lewis than we did, but work dictated otherwise. Especially lately. I hoped this run we'd been on would slow down somewhat, but so far we'd been going non-stop for several months.

"Can you drop me at the courthouse?" Lewis asked as we made our way to the parking garage.

"What's going on over there?" I asked him.

"Um…Erica had to give expert testimony today, and since I can't go back to my car yet, I thought I'd hang out in the courtroom and wait for her to finish."

"Sure, no problem," Bobby agreed. "So things are going good for you two?"

"So far," he admitted. I unlocked the car and we all got in.

"Mike said you did really great today," I commented, sensing that he didn't want to discuss his fledgling relationship. "Thanks for your help. It let us save Lupo for tonight."

"Good," he answered with a smile. "So you guys are going to arrest her tonight? Because I don't think Logan can hold her off much longer."

"She is pretty aggressive," Bobby said.

"When I got there, she actually had her hand on his…well, you know."

"I think that's her signature move," I remarked. "Either a hand or a foot."

"You're never going to let me forget that, are you?" Bobby said, although he was chuckling.

"Probably not."

"Forget what?" Lewis asked. So then I had to tell him about Rhonda kicking him.

"I told you about that," Bobby said when I'd finished my condensed version. "Remember? Because I told you that Alex had made me put ice on it."

"Oh, that was Rhonda? I didn't realize this was the same woman."

"Well, I try not to make a habit out of allowing women to kick me."

"You told Lewis that I gave you an ice pack?" I asked Bobby. I was surprised to hear that he had shared that tidbit with his friend. I mean, I knew that they were friends, but Bobby was usually so closed-mouthed.

"He wanted my opinion," Lewis said proudly.

"About what?"

"About whether or not I was reading too much into it," Bobby admitted.

"And were you?" I asked, unable to keep from smiling. It was so sweet to think about him like that, pondering over whether I was interested in him romantically.

"Well, I don't know," he retorted, and he was smiling as well. "Did you want me to ice it to make sure it still worked whenever you got around to admitting your feelings to me?"

"Whenever _I_ got around to it? What about _you_?"

"Hey, guys…" Lewis interrupted.

But we were having fun.

"You weren't," I told Bobby, ignoring Lewis for the moment. At his raised eyebrow, I added, "Reading too much into it, I mean."

Bobby picked up my hand and kissed my knuckles before joining his fingers through mine.

I looked in the rearview mirror and caught Lewis' eye, making a point to bring him back into the conversation.

"So, when's the next poker game?" I asked him.

"Why, do you want to come?"

"No, but Mike has someone he wants to bring, if that's okay with you," Bobby told him. "And actually, there are a few people that I'd like to bring."

"Hey, the more people, the more money," Lewis said agreeably.

"Who are you going to take?" I asked Bobby.

"I thought I'd call your dad," he replied. "I thought maybe he and your brothers would be interested. You know, get a few cigars, drink some scotch…"

"Win some of your money," Lewis added with a big grin.

Bobby rarely won at poker.

But that had nothing to do with how good he was at the game.

If he wanted to, he could clean everyone out of every dollar in their wallets.

But he didn't play for the money. He played for the challenge and for the camaraderie.

I'd asked him once why he always came home broke, and he'd told me two things.

One, he only took as much money with him as he was willing to lose.

And two, when the reason for playing became making money instead of having fun, then it was time to quit playing.

Spoken like the son of a gambling addict.

But I loved him for his unique outlook and his diligence about keeping himself under control.

By this time, we'd arrived at the courthouse. I pulled over in the fire lane and looked back at Lewis.

"Thanks again for today," I told him. "You really helped us out of a jam."

"Any time," he answered. "So, poker…how about Saturday night?"

"If we can wrap this case up tonight like we hope, then absolutely," Bobby said.

"Have fun on your date," I called out just before he closed the door. Lewis just smiled and waved and headed inside the building.

"You think he's getting serious with her?" Bobby asked me as he watched him leave.

"Erica? I don't know. Maybe."

"What do you think of her?"

"She's good for him," I replied. "You know that. You're the one who gave her his number."

"Yeah, but I didn't know that she'd actually call him. Or that he'd go."

"He needs someone," I said quietly. I hadn't pulled away from the curb yet, so I took the opportunity to run my hand through his hair, and he turned around to look at me. "What made you think to ask my dad?"

"I thought it might help smooth things over."

"You don't have to do that. That's your guys' night. It's supposed to be fun. If my dad's there, he might…"

"It'll be fine," he assured me with a smile.

A flood of emotion rushed through me at his simple statement, so I reached across the console and kissed him, slowly and with promise.

"Let's go home," I told him when I pulled back. "We've still got more than three hours before we have to be back at the morgue."

**

* * *

**

Bobby POV

It was great getting to see Lewis again, and I was looking forward to having a poker game on Saturday.

It was always a lot of fun, although I hadn't been to one since Alex and I had been together.

I wondered how much better it would feel to go home and have her waiting in the bed for me.

The last time I'd gone, Lewis had ribbed me about Alex for a good part of the night.

And Mike had been there, too. Back then, he'd been insisting that Alex and I were already sleeping together, so he'd joined Lewis in the teasing.

By the time I got home to my dark empty apartment, I was wound up tight as a drum. I'd had quite a memorable solo experience with Alex on my mind.

It wasn't the first time I'd done that, and it certainly wasn't the last, but it was enticing to me _now_ to consider the possibilities of coming home _to her_ after a night with the boys.

Inviting her dad and brothers wasn't a ploy to score points with my wife. I truly wanted a better relationship with them, so I needed to work at it.

Her dad needed to understand Alex for who she was now rather than who he had hoped she would be. I figured that getting to know me might help him in this process.

And even though being impressive wasn't my intent, Alex was still touched that I wanted to include her family.

She'd kissed me and then looked into my eyes and said that she was ready to go home, and well…I was on board with that. Three hours? I had a pretty good idea of how I wanted to spend those hours.

But Alex had her own idea about how to spend the time.

"Lay back," she whispered.

We were sitting on our sofa, and we'd left the lights off.

A few minutes ago, we'd arrived back in our apartment, and after taking my coat from me, she'd led me by the hand to where we were right now.

As she said the words, she gently pushed on my shoulders, encouraging me to lay with my head away from her, and then she brought my legs up onto the couch so that my feet rested in her lap.

She'd barely touched me, and yet I was hard as rock. I can't explain it, and for once in my life, I don't even want to try. I'll just chalk it up to a mystery of nature.

"You always take such good care of me," she said, keeping her voice low as she methodically removed my shoes and socks.

I was tingling all the way up into my head from the soft touch of her hands on my bare feet. She ran her fingers lightly over both feet for a moment before picking up the right one.

"You don't have to do that," I insisted weakly.

"I know," she replied, working her hands over the arch. "But I want to make you feel good."

"You…always make me feel good," I murmured. My eyes were rolling back in my head at the sensations she was creating.

"Last night, you made me feel good. I think it's my turn. Relax."

She ran her hands up my pant leg as far as she could reach, kneading my calf muscles along the way. Then she worked her way back down and resumed massaging my foot.

"So, what do you think everyone else is doing right now?" she asked quietly.

For someone who didn't talk a lot in day to day situations, she sure was chatty during intimate moments. Learning that had been a pleasant surprise. I never knew what was going to come out of her mouth.

"Everyone else? You mean Mike and Carolyn?"

"Well, yeah, them. I guess they're with Strathmore right now, huh?"

"Carolyn probably jumped him in the car on the way to the hotel. Mike said she's been a little possessive."

"That makes sense. I don't blame her at all."

"I don't either," I agreed. "Liz had another autopsy lined up, and I'm sure that Ross went back to work."

"Oh, he said that he wanted to talk with us after this case was finished," she told me.

"He did? About what?"

"I don't know. He said that it was nothing to worry about, but after we closed this thing, he wanted to have a meeting with us."

"A meeting? Like something official?"

"He's not our boss, Bobby. What's he going to do?"

"I don't know."

"Besides, he's not the bad guy anymore. He's on our side, and he's been pretty consistent about proving it."

"You're right," I agreed, and I felt a little bad for immediately assuming the worst.

"So what do you think of Lupo?" she asked as she set down one foot and picked up the other. She followed the same routine as before, running her hands up my calf for a moment, and then went to work on the foot.

"He's good. I like him," I admitted. "I think he's sleeping with that ADA."

"Really?" she asked in surprise, her motions pausing briefly as she pondered my statement.

"Call it a hunch."

"Where you're concerned, that usually translates to fact."

I shrugged noncommittally, not wanting to think about Lupo at the moment.

Although the mention of him did remind me of something else.

"Alex," I said. I waited for her to look at me, and then I lowered my voice and whispered, "Ti amo con tutta l'anima."

The reaction was almost immediate. Her face flushed and her breathing quickened.

"I'm never going to finish the foot rub if you keep that up," she warned me.

In fact, her hands had already slowed their motion. But I didn't care.

"Siete la donna che più bella ho visto mai," I continued.

I sat up and reached for her. She came willingly into my arms, and I shoved my hands into her hair before I brought my lips to hers.

"Ho bisogno di te," I said softly as I moved my mouth around to her neck.

"I have no idea what you're saying," she said on a sigh as she tilted her head back to give me better access. "It must not be dirty."

I chuckled at her practicality and worked my hands underneath her shirt, running my fingers along the waistband of her jeans.

"You are the most beautiful woman in the world," I translated for her. "I need you."

She sighed contentedly as I pulled off her shirt and began kissing the newly exposed skin.

"How do I say _I'm so lucky to have you in my life_?" she asked in a breathy voice as I undid her jeans and worked them off her hips.

I took a moment to drink in the sight of her, and then continued my southward track, punctuating each word with my lips against her skin.

"Just. Like. That."

TBC...


	46. Chapter 46

**Logan POV**

* * *

I don't get nervous.

Okay, sometimes I do, but not very often. Not about work anyway.

I was nervous a few times with Carolyn. When she thought she might be pregnant…when I first told her that I loved her…when we talked about marriage…

And I'm okay with the fact that she made me nervous from time to time.

Of course she would.

I'd put my heart in her hands and for a long time I kept waiting for her to toss it back to me.

Of course, I'd also been nervous about meeting John. I tried to convince myself that it didn't matter, but it _did_ matter. I wanted to him to be a nice guy instead of just another familial disappointment.

But work matters are another thing entirely. I used to be a really good cop, and now I'm a really good investigator. I might lack some confidence in my personal life, but not at work, not ever.

So I didn't get nervous about a bust. I just got the job done.

But today, I was nervous.

And so then the fact that I was nervous made me even _more_ nervous.

Because this was important.

This was more than that, it was everything.

If we let Rhonda slip away…I'd never sleep another minute because I'd be constantly afraid that she'd come after Carolyn again.

Or Bobby. He was on her list now, too, and even if this thing went to hell and Rhonda learned that we'd lied about Carolyn's demise and subsequently about the cheating as well, that didn't mean that she'd take Bobby off of her list.

Because I had a feeling that once a person was there, that was it.

And hell, I'd probably be added to it as well.

So if she escaped us tonight, and our story was blown, she'd scamper off to a new hole and start over with a new host of minions.

And then eventually, she'd come back to finish what she started.

So no, failure was not an option. This was it.

"You can do this," Carolyn said quietly.

She and I were standing in the hall outside of the autopsy suites. We had just wrapped up our pre-sting briefing, and it was time for me to go to Steve-O's.

Lupo had already left and John was going to show up about twenty minutes after me. Everyone else would stagger their arrivals but would still be in their predetermined positions well before Rhonda was due to show.

"I know," I told her, although I found myself rubbing the bare skin of my little finger.

It felt strange not to be wearing the ring, but at the same time it felt good.

Carolyn said that I didn't need it. She trusted me not to hurt her.

I'd always wondered if she was concerned that I might some day snap.

Because Carolyn was a smart woman. She knew enough about my past and my genetic make-up and my temper…I'd always figured that the only reason it didn't worry her to be with me was because she knew how to take care of herself.

The fact that it didn't bother her because she knew that I _wouldn't _hurt her…well that meant a lot to me.

"This is what you do. It's what you're good at," she continued. And then she nudged my shoulder with hers and added, "Well, it's not the _only_ thing you're good at, but…"

"Are you making a joke? Now?"

"I am, yes," she admitted with a smile. "You need to relax. She's not going to get away this time."

"How can you be so sure?"

"We have enough evidence on her to arrest her right now. Even if you can't get her to say the words that we want her to say, she's going down. You know that."

"I'm the one who convinced Ross not to clear the restaurant. He wanted to fill it with cops," I said, admitting part of my apprehension. "What if that's a mistake?"

"It's not. She'd spot a set-up if we used cops. She's not violent, Mike. Not personally. We've never known her to use a gun. The worst that she'll do is try to escape, and there will be five more of us outside to make sure that doesn't happen."

"I know."

The plan was solid, and it should go smoothly.

I had my laptop, on which Lupo had installed a keystroke recorder. When I logged on to let Rhonda access her bank account, we'd have a record of her movements. John would make the transfer using his phone, and then Rhonda would verify the receipt of funds, and then we'd have her.

Lupo would come over to make the arrest.

"If you can't relax, she's going to know something's up."

"I know," I said again, this time my frustration mounting. I paced a small circle in the hallway. "I know, I know, I know…" I muttered over and over again.

_Get your head on, Mike_.

I stopped in front of Carolyn and kissed her fiercely. Not rough like I'd done with Rhonda earlier. With her, I'd put my hatred into the kiss and yet somehow it had only served to make her hotter.

No, with Carolyn, I infused every bit of passion and resolve that I could muster.

I _was_ going to do this because _she_ needed me to get the job done. She needed to quit having to lurk in the morgue.

She needed her life back.

I stepped back, breathing heavily and full of new-found determination. I kept my hands on her cheeks and my gaze locked on hers.

"I love you," I said firmly. And then I dropped my hands and took another step back. "I'll see you when it's done."

With that, I turned from her and left the morgue.

**

* * *

**

Strathmore POV

I came out into the hallway in time to hear Mike telling Carolyn that he loved her.

The conviction with which he said the words had my feet rooted to the floor. I hadn't meant to interrupt their moment, although I guess I didn't because he never saw me. Instead, he turned and went down the hall toward the exit.

I'd come out because he seemed nervous before and I wanted to convince him that I wasn't going to screw this up. I figured that he wasn't used to working with someone he didn't know, a civilian at that, and maybe that was why he was apprehensive.

But seeing him walk away, he looked like a new man. He looked like someone I wouldn't want to cross.

"He's okay?" I asked Carolyn. She still stood against the wall watching the empty hall where Mike had once stood.

My voice caught her by surprise and she quickly turned to look at me.

"He's fine."

"I won't mess this up," I told her.

"He's not worried about that. Neither am I."

At my inquisitive look, she walked towards me and continued.

"We've been after her for a long time, and she's always managed to stay a step ahead of us. There's a lot riding on this, and he's taking on the weight of the world."

"He's worried about _you_," I amended.

"Well, there is that," she agreed with a smile. "So, you know what you're doing, right? The most important thing to remember is that you've never met Mike before. It's okay to think you recognize him, because really, he looks too damn much like you _not_ to recognize him, but be stiff and formal and really annoyed that they're taking your money."

"I can do that."

"If she ups the amount, go along with it, but put up a fuss about it first. Then make the transfer, and once she confirms that it's in her account, get up and walk away. You don't need to be there when the cops make the arrest."

"I know," I told her. They'd gone over all of this in the briefing, but I could understand that it probably eased her nerves to tell me again.

"I'm serious," she insisted. "No hanging around, no trying to be a hero, okay?"

"I got it."

Just then, the others came out of the autopsy suite and into the hall.

"We've got to hit it," Alex told Carolyn. "You ready?"

Carolyn looked at me a moment longer.

"I'm good," I told her. She nodded and then turned to Alex and Bobby.

"I'm ready. Let's go."

Within a minute, I was alone in the hall. Dr. Rodgers and the ADA had gone with the captain and Detective Bernard. Carolyn had left with Alex and Bobby. All of them were going to be outside the tiny restaurant making sure that things went smoothly.

I was supposed to wait ten minutes and then head for the nearest subway station and ride the train over to Brooklyn.

It was going to be a long ten minutes, but I'd spent more time doing worse things.

Besides, this was for my brother.

I mean, it was for _me_, but it was for him, too. And Carolyn. All of them.

So I was going to make damn sure that I did it right.

**

* * *

**

Lupo POV

I'd killed the time between our earlier meeting and my rendezvous with Connie by rearranging the tables in Steve-O's and hanging a couple of mirrors.

Of course, I'd cleared it with the owner first, but he was fine with it. I'd also insisted that he be the one to wait on their table. I didn't need his whole staff knowing about the sting, and he was a gnarly old biker, so I wasn't concerned about him getting a case of the nerves.

In return, all he wanted to know was if the name of his restaurant would be in the paper if a fugitive was arrested there. I assured him that it would if he wanted it to be, which he very much did. I guess any kind of press is good press.

On my way to Steve-O's, I'd bought a mini-cam that could be monitored through my phone. I set it up at a specific table, hiding it in the condiment caddy. I'd be sure to let Logan know exactly which table, and that he needed to let Rhonda be on the inside.

After I had everything arranged, I wandered around the restaurant, checking out the bathrooms and the fire exit.

Once I felt comfortable with the layout of the place, I left and went back to my apartment.

Connie pounced on me when I walked through the door.

"You're late," she told me as she pulled my coat off of me.

"Five minutes," I replied. "Where's Otto?"

"He's in the bedroom. I already took him for a walk," she answered, now working on my belt buckle.

We'd learned awhile back that even though Otto didn't appreciate being locked _out_ of the bedroom, he didn't seem to mind being locked _in_ it. So we'd had quite a few sexual escapades in the living room and kitchen to keep from having him stare at us while we were making love.

Her exuberance today was taking me somewhat by surprise. We did have a fairly active sex life, I'm happy to say, but she wasn't usually so…aggressive. Not that I minded. But still, she had my curiosity up. In addition to other things.

"We've got time," I told her. "We don't have to rush it."

"I'm sorry," she answered, her hands still a flurry of activity. "I've just been thinking about doing this since our meeting this afternoon."

"Huh. And see, I thought you were mad at me."

"Because you didn't tell me what you were into?"

"Yeah."

"I was. But then I realized that I shouldn't be, so I got over it. Professionally, I wished you'd called me sooner, but I'm not going to hold that against you personally."

As she said this, her analysis of our situation, she efficiently rid me of the rest of my clothes. That made it a little difficult for me to focus, but I managed.

"You can make that distinction?"

She pushed me back against the door and kissed me hard before taking a step back and unzipping her skirt.

"I may blur the lines from time to time," she admitted. "But ultimately, yes."

She let her skirt fall to the floor and her blouse soon followed.

"Can you?" she asked. And I knew that she was referring to Cutter now. My jealousy of him was no secret, but neither was the fact that she had to work closely with him on a regular basis. I couldn't hold that against her.

"I…um…yes, I can."

What else could I say? The woman I loved was standing in front of me wearing nothing but a smile. I'd figure out a way to exorcise the green-eyed monster from my system somehow just to keep from causing her any more grief.

Because she shouldn't have to take any crap from me.

I knew that I was a step down for her.

At first, I'd thought that she wanted me for the excitement of slumming it. She was just a high-class ADA who wanted to find out what it was like to get fucked by a gritty detective.

But it wasn't about that.

And it sure as hell wasn't about fucking.

I'd fallen hard for her, and she was still here so I hoped that meant that maybe the feeling was mutual, or on its way there, at least.

I thought that maybe one day she wouldn't be embarrassed about our relationship, and then we could tell people. Because the truth was that I wanted to shout it from the rooftops.

And even though I'd agreed with her to keep it under wraps, I did it because I thought that was what she wanted.

After all, what would Cutter say if he knew that she was dating me?

"Lupo, turn your brain off," she said huskily. She ran her hands down my chest and pressed her body against mine, and then added, "Don't you want me?"

What a ridiculous question. It was like asking a starving man if he wanted a cracker.

So I'd spent the next hour showing her just how much I wanted her.

And then she took Otto out again while I shaved.

Even though we were all pretty sure that Rhonda had never gotten around to viewing the pictures from the bar the other night, I still wanted to look different.

Once my face was smooth, I showered, used some gel to smooth out my usually wavy hair, and then put on my best suit.

Connie whistled at me when I came out of the bedroom. She was back in her skirt and silk blouse but that didn't keep her from having the dog pulled onto her lap while she sat on the couch. I ignored the pang of longing I felt from such a domestic scene.

"You look very dashing," she told me.

"Can I pull off the businessman thing?"

"Most definitely," she agreed. She got up and walked over to me and then took a moment to straighten my tie. "You ready to go?"

"Yeah. I'll go first. Give me a few minutes head start, and then meet us at the morgue."

I kissed her once more and then left the apartment.

The briefing went according to plans and I felt the build up of adrenaline. I could only imagine that the Logans and the Gorens were about to burst with it, considering how much longer they'd been in this particular game.

"Make sure you put her on the inside," I told Logan for the third time. It was time for me to head out, and I couldn't help but do another quick rundown.

"I got it," he assured me. "And if she's not positioned right, just tell me. I'll figure out a way to make her move."

"Okay," I said with a nod. I turned away to leave, but then I looked back at him pointedly.

"I've got your back," I promised.

"I'm counting on it."

I left the room and headed for the exit. Connie had excused herself to the restroom a minute earlier, so I wasn't surprised when she met me in the stairwell.

"You're going to be careful tonight, right?"

"Honey, I'm always careful."

"I know. I've just got a bad feeling about this."

"You'll be there listening the whole time. If you get uncomfortable, you can pull the plug," I reminded her. And I knew that she wouldn't, but it had to help to know that she _could_.

"I know. It's just that she's been doing this for a long time. I don't think she's going to go down easy."

"Very few of them ever do."

TBC...


	47. Chapter 47

**Rhonda POV**

* * *

I could barely contain my excitement.

This was _it_.

This was my last night in this fucking city, chasing around after one loser cop after another in order to get my rocks off.

After this, I'd have Mikey.

I wouldn't need to look past him because he was more than enough to keep me satisfied.

And we'd have money. We'd be fucking rolling in it, so that little ocean town in western Mexico that was calling my name would finally become home.

I literally could not stop smiling. This was my dream come true.

After my disappointing romp in Queens, I'd gone back to my acquired studio across from Steve-O's. I needed to shower before I met with Mikey. It wouldn't do to smell of sex when I hadn't been with him.

After I cleaned up, I still had some time to kill, so I sat down at my computers and beginning purging the files.

I wouldn't need any of it any more because Mikey was going to take me away from all of this.

The only file I kept was the one on Strathmore, just in case for some reason our meeting hit a snag.

But as for the rest of them, I deleted the files, emptied the recycle bin, and then did a compression of the hard drive to remove every trace. It was always possible that some geek in the NYPD computer lab would be able to recover something, but it was unlikely.

Besides, first I'd have to get caught, and that wasn't going to happen. But even if I did, no one knew about this place, or the house in White Horse.

They wouldn't have enough evidence to charge me with anything.

At seven forty-five, I started watching out the window. I knew that Mikey had a propensity for being early, so I'd keep an eye out for him.

And I'd make sure that he wasn't being tailed, just to erase any last shred of doubt that he was for real.

Because I thought that he was. For real, I mean. His anger over Strathmore had been genuine, and so had his kisses.

But I had too much riding on this to be anything less that overly cautious.

As I had the thought, Mikey appeared on the sidewalk across the street. He had his briefcase with him. He'd told me that he would bring his laptop so that we could confirm receipt of the wire transfer on the spot.

He was a thinker, my Mikey. I wished I'd had him all along.

I watched him go into the restaurant. He hesitated inside the door, looking around for a moment before moving on to a table. I commended his choice with the exception of the fact that it was too far away from the door.

I always liked to have an exit route planned out ahead of time.

But, a table near the door would make our business more visible to the other customers, so maybe he was right to sit where he did.

One thing for sure was that he looked smoking hot. Intense, sexy, focused…I couldn't wait to put some of that energy to better use.

I did a quick scan of the street, but I didn't see anything unusual. There were a few customers in the restaurant already, but no one who stuck out. Two couples…a businessman…and now Mikey.

Time to get my ass in gear.

**

* * *

**

Bobby POV

I knew that Rhonda would be watching from her window, so I purposely had Alex park the car in a blind spot from her vantage point.

And we were in my Mustang, which was about the furthest thing from a cop car imaginable. She'd be looking for a dark nondescript sedan, not a classic muscle car.

"_**I'm in,"**_ Mike said over the com device.

"_**When she gets here, you need to get up and let her slide in to the inside,"**_ Lupo said.

He was already in position at his table. He had a legal brief spread out in front of him and was wearing a pair of reading glasses. He kept his Blackberry in his hand, presumably for working, but of course, he was getting video feed from the mini-cam.

"_**I know**_," Mike said firmly. _**"You've told me like six times already.**_"

"_**I'm just making sure."**_

"Boys," Carolyn said. "No bickering during a bust."

"_**Oh, come on, Mom,"**_ Lupo retorted.

We all started chuckling, but then Ross' voice came through the coms. He and the others were positioned down the block and had a good view of Rhonda's building as well as Steve-O's.

"_**If you guys are done joking around, our suspect is leaving her building,"**_ Ross said.

"_**Sorry, Cap,"**_ Lupo said quickly.

And then it began.

Rhonda crossed the street and went into the bar.

"_**Mikey!"**_ she squealed. Her voice was like fingernails on a chalkboard. But I was glad to see that she breezed right past Lupo and headed for Mike. He stood up to give her a hug and then gestured for her to sit down.

"_**Not so fast, honey. I've been thinking about you all day,"**_ she told him, and then she gave him the expected kiss.

I gave him points for trying to avoid it, but we all knew that it was coming. He managed to extricate himself from her embrace and encourage her into the booth, at which point he sat down next to her.

"_**Sorry, man, but she needs to be a little closer to you,"**_ Lupo said.

"How? By getting in his lap?" Carolyn mumbled.

I started to shush her but then I realized that I hadn't heard her through the com. She'd turned her microphone off. Smart woman.

Mike put his arm around Rhonda, easing her closer to him, and then casually moved it again so that he could get out his laptop. He was smooth and the action was seamless.

"_**Nice,"**_ Lupo told him. _**"Perfect."**_

"_**Can you believe this Mikey?"**_ Rhonda asked excitedly.

"_**Which part?"**_ he questioned.

"_**All of it. We can get out of here tomorrow. I've been waiting for this for so long."**_

"_**We need to get through tonight first."**_

"_**Oh, he'll pay,"**_ she said confidently. _**"Did you bring the documentation?"**_

"_**I've got it."**_

"_**Once he sees what a low-life piece of trash his mother was…"**_

"_**Hey! She was my mother, too."**_

"_**Oh, I know baby! I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by it. I'm just saying…if Strathmore wants to keep his dirty laundry out of the papers, then he'll pay."**_

"_**Good, Logan,"**_ Bernard said. _**"Keep working her**_."

And he was doing a great job. His indignation about her offending his mother had prompted the explanation.

But now he needed to suck up to her a little, stroke her ego so that she'd admit to the whole thing being her idea.

"_**Mikey, does that guy look strange to you?"**_

"_**Oh shit,"**_ Bernard said, at the same time that Alex muttered something similar.

Rhonda was looking at Lupo.

"_**Strange how?"**_ he asked her without even looking up from his briefcase. He was still organizing the falsified documents.

"_**I don't know. I can't put my finger on it."**_

Mike finally looked up and glanced at Lupo.

"_**Who? The suit?"**_

"_**Yeah."**_

"_**We need to do something. I don't want her to postpone,"**_ Ross said.

"_**What are we supposed to do? We don't want him to leave,"**_ Bernard argued.

"_**Yeah, he looks strange,"**_ Mike told her with a shrug. _**"If you think a five hundred dollar an hour lawyer looks strange sitting in a dump like this. But what the hell? Maybe he likes the burgers."**_

"Strathmore is coming this way," Carolyn reported. She'd been keeping an eye on the subway station.

"We need to relax her or it's going to be a bust," I said.

"Slow your pace, Strathmore," Alex told him. "We need another minute."

"_**You don't think he looks like a cop?" **_Rhonda asked Mike.

"_**Shit!"**_ Bernard said again.

"_**I'm on it."**_

And that was Rubirosa.

I only knew that for sure because she was the only female involved in this whose voice I didn't recognize. I looked over my shoulder in the direction of Ross' car, and I watched her as she got out.

Without hesitation, she walked across the street, into the bar. She went straight to Lupo's table.

"_**Honey, I am so sorry I'm late,"**_ she told him, and then she sat down in the booth beside him and gave him a kiss.

And it wasn't an awkward we've-never-done-this-before kiss, either.

It was intimate and telling. A lovers' kiss.

I smirked at Alex.

"Told you."

**

* * *

**

Lupo POV

My panic at Rhonda's suspicion of me was nothing compared to the feeling I had when I realized what Connie was doing.

I mean, yes, she was saving my cover.

But she was coming into the lion's den, and that was not okay with me.

Her, sitting in the car with the MCS captain and my partner - that was safe.

Sitting in the bar three tables away from our suspect – most definitely _not_ safe.

And yeah, I know…we didn't think Rhonda was physically dangerous. She was feminine and easy on the eyes and wasn't known to carry a weapon.

But a fucking honey badger was pretty damn cute too until it got backed into a corner. Then it could kill a goddamn crocodile.

So I didn't like it one damn bit that now she was next to me at the table.

And then there was that kiss… she hadn't made any effort to censor it.

Anyone watching would never believe for a second that it was our first kiss.

_Why would she do that_?

A peck on the cheek would've worked for the cover.

And of course, I couldn't ask her _now_ because we were miked up ten ways to Sunday, so I just had to sit here and smile and pretend like I wasn't in full panic mode.

But I was.

I was completely in fucking full-on panic mode.

And then, of course, that was when Strathmore opened the door.

It was game on and my head was up my ass.

"_**Hey, Lupes,"**_ Bernard said.

_Shit, don't give me a hard time_, I begged silently. _I am not equipped to deal with it at the moment._

"Uh huh,"I responded as the owner came over to take Connie's drink order.

"_**She just saved your ass. You think she's gonna want hazardous duty pay? Because it **_**had**_** to be a tough job, kissing a mug like that**_**."**

"**You're just sorry it wasn't you," **Connie replied**. "Now shut the hell up."**

"**I couldn't have said it better myself, Counselor," **Ross spoke up**. **

I forced myself to focus as Logan greeted Strathmore sternly, gesturing for him to sit down at the table. There were lives at stake here and anything less than my undivided attention was unacceptable.

"**I…um…I guess you weren't kidding," **Strathmore said uneasily as he sat down.

As they talked, I held the brief out in front of Connie so that she could pretend to read along with me.

My phone was still in my hand, tuned into the scene at the table. We could clearly see Rhonda, with her hand tightly clutching Logan's thigh.

Connie nodded imperceptibly.

It always helped lock up a case when the prosecution could provide video to go along with the audio.

Sometimes a defendant, especially one who looked like Rhonda, got on the stand and came across as so sincere that a jury had trouble believing the charges. Audio alone didn't put a face to the crime.

This video would be the nail in her coffin.

"_**About what?"**_ Logan asked Strathmore suspiciously.

"_**I thought that maybe you weren't really my brother."**_

"_**And now?"**_

"_**Now I'd like to see this supposed documentation you have that supports your claims about our mother."**_

"_**What, you don't trust us?" **_Rhonda asked in an innocent voice.

"_**Say it, sugar,"**_ Bernard encouraged. _**"Just say it."**_

"_**I don't trust anyone,"**_ Strathmore answered.

Logan shoved the set of documents across the table toward Strathmore, who immediately started flipping through the pages.

"_**You don't need to trust us. You put a hundred million dollars into my account, and we'll be out of your life forever,"**_ Rhonda retorted sharply.

"_**Yes!"**_ was the collective shout.

"_**Wire the money. Do it now,"**_ I said needlessly. Logan was already sliding his laptop in front of Rhonda.

"_**Make the transfer,"**_ Logan told Strathmore. _**"We'll confirm it, and then you can go."**_

"_**And how do I know that you won't hit me up again in a year?"**_ Strathmore asked reasonably.

He was doing a good job. As much as I wanted him to hurry, Strathmore was making it believable. No one would unload that much money without asking a few questions first.

"_**I guess you don't**_," Logan retorted. _**"But you sure as hell know what's going to happen if you don't pay up now."**_

"_**We're not going to bother you again,"**_ Rhonda told him. _**"This money buys our silence. You have my word."**_

"_**I have the word of a blackmailer. Great."**_

"_**Make the fucking transfer," **_I whispered.

"_**Lupes, relax. It's going perfectly,"**_ Bernard said to me.

But I couldn't relax. Not yet.

Because this thing wasn't over yet.

TBC...


	48. Chapter 48

**Logan POV**

* * *

Sometimes it's nothing specific.

Sometimes everything is going along fine, and then boom – the hairs on the back of your neck stand at attention and it feels like the air you're breathing is suddenly viscous.

I'd thought we were good.

John was doing great.

Rubirosa had saved Lupo's cover. In fact, I'd relaxed so much that I almost laughed out loud when I saw that kiss she laid on him.

But then it all inexplicably changed.

"I have the word of a blackmailer," John said. "Great."

"_**Make the fucking transfer," **_Lupo said quietly.

And he had an urgency in his voice that only served to increase my sense of impending mayhem.

"_**Lupes, relax. It's going perfect,"**_ Bernard said casually.

But Bernard wasn't in the room. He couldn't feel the tension in the air.

Lupo could, and over the course of the past two days, I'd learned that he had pretty damn good instincts.

It was time to get this thing over with.

I caught John's eye across the table and gave him a look.

He'd been waiting for it. The look, I mean.

Earlier we'd talked about how long he should stall the transfer. I told him when I made solid eye contact with him for longer than a few seconds, that would be his cue.

So I caught his eye and glared at him sternly until he slowly pulled out his phone.

"Okay. I'll wire the money."

"Uh uh," Rhonda interrupted when she saw his intent. "Use the laptop. Otherwise how do I know you're not over there texting the cops?"

John shoved his phone back into his pocket and I turned the laptop towards him.

"This is it," he told us. "Don't come back for more. The next time, I'll just release the story myself and weather the storm. Got it?"

"Just do it," Rhonda told him. "I already told you that we wouldn't hit you again. We won't be around after tonight anyway."

"Hey, sugar," I admonished her. "You don't need to tell him our plans, okay?"

"What's he going to do? Chase us down to Mexico because we milked him for a hundred mil? That's chump change to him," she replied with a smile. "Besides, _your_ mother fucked a billionaire, so how come he should get it all?"

"Uh, because I'm that billionaire's son?" John retorted. But he continued tapping the keys for another minute and then said, "Done."

I turned the laptop back to our side of the table, and tipped my head toward Rhonda.

"Check it out," I told her. "Make sure it's there and then we can get the hell out of here."

Time was slowing down when all I wanted it to do was speed up.

_Check the funds, let John go, arrest Rhonda_…that was my internal chant that I repeated over and over again in my head.

But even while I thought the words, the knot in the pit of my stomach was growing.

"_**Move to the other side of the table,"**_I heard Lupo say to Rubirosa.

The words alone wouldn't have bothered me because when she'd come in the restaurant, she'd slid into the booth beside him, effectively pinning him in.

It made sense that he needed her on the other side now that his part in this bust was coming up.

So it wasn't the words that he said but it was how he said them.

Cautious, deliberate…

Bernard caught it, too.

"_**Lupes, what's up?" **_he asked him.

I watched out of the corner of my eye as Rubirosa moved quickly and efficiently to the other side of the table.

"_**Something," **_Lupo answered.

"_**Did she make you?"**_ Bobby asked.

"_**I don't know. I don't think so, but something's not right."**_

"_**We've got enough**_," Rubirosa said.

"_**If we wait for her to confirm, then we'll have everything,"**_ Ross reminded us.

And he was right.

If she didn't look at the funds, then she could claim that she had no idea how that money got there, or why it was put there. It would be a stretch for her to try to shake the charge, but I didn't put anything past her.

And another two minutes would give us that additional proof.

"_**Your call Mike**_," Bobby said. "_**Clear your throat if you want us to come in."**_

Rhonda was still tapping keys. I looked up at John and he shook his head slightly.

He wanted to wait.

"_**Mike."**_

That was Carolyn. She knew that my radar was up, and she didn't want me to risk anything just for that extra time this proof might give Rhonda.

But it was her voice that made my decision.

I wanted this psycho bitch behind bars for the rest of her life. We had her on the ropes, and I wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to get as much evidence as possible.

"So, sugar, are we on our way to Mexico?" I asked Rhonda.

"I don't think so," she replied as she shifted against me. I thought that she was just being her usual, clingy self, but then I heard the click.

And I knew that sound.

She'd just taken off the safety.

I looked down and saw that she was pointing a gun, _Carolyn's _gun, at John underneath the table.

"Rhonda, what the…" I managed to say.

"This mother fucker double crossed us."

**

* * *

**

Rhonda POV

I _knew_ that it was going too well.

Because my life did not work like this.

I _always_ had to spread my legs to get anything from anyone, so why had I thought that this time would be any different?

I should've _known_ that Mr. I'm-too-rich-for-you wouldn't just come off of a hundred million dollars.

He must have called the fucking cops.

It's a good thing I'm so damn smart.

See, I knew that I needed to protect my money.

My _serious_ money, I mean.

I had lots of accounts, under lots of different names, but I only had one that I used to keep the funds I'd pilfered from unsuspecting old men.

And I'd never used that alias for anything else, so it would never be traced back to me.

When I needed money, I withdrew from that account and then would make a cash deposit into whichever other account that I wanted to use.

It was seamless.

_Or so I thought_.

But I also had security measures in place.

I'd spent three long nights in a row on my back, letting the fat-ass bank manager get his rocks off so that he'd keep an eye on my account activity.

If the account was accessed, he flagged it. And he did, every time. And up until now, every time I saw the flag, I made sure that it coincided with the last time I'd accessed the account, and it always had.

But as I logged in to confirm the receipt of the wire transfer, the account flag showed access earlier today.

And that wasn't from me.

My mind reeled with the possibilities.

_Was it Mikey_?

Was he screwing me over again?

No…no, I just couldn't believe that.

It was this rich fuck Strathmore. He had enough money to pay some hack to find me.

But how? How could he do it in a matter of hours when the cops hadn't been able to do it in years?

I didn't have time to figure that out now.

"So, sugar, are we on our way to Mexico?" Mikey asked me.

"I don't think so," I said as I reached a hand into my purse and got out my gun.

_Her _gun.

I loved the irony that I would be using that do-gooder former cop's gun to commit murder. And even though I wasn't all that big into firearms, I knew how to use them.

I switched off the safety and kept the gun on my lap, pointed at Strathmore.

"Rhonda, what the…" Mikey stammered.

"This mother fucker double crossed us," I told him. "I don't know how he did it, but he's been into my account. He's either called the cops, or he's going to wait until he leaves here and then he's going to reverse the transfer."

"Relax, sugar," Mikey said calmly. "If he'd called the cops, they'd be in here by now. They tend to get antsy when someone pulls a gun."

"Then he was planning on stealing my money - _our money _- as soon as he leaves," I said rationally. "So you know what that means, right?"

"What?" Strathmore asked me, and I could tell that he didn't really want to hear my answer.

"It means that you won't be leaving."

**

* * *

**

Carolyn POV

I could tell by the tone of Mike's voice that he didn't like the way things were going. It wasn't anything that most people would pick up on. Hell, it wasn't even anything that I could pinpoint specifically.

I just knew.

So I was getting nervous enough before Rhonda mentioned being double crossed.

And then Mike let us know that she had a gun.

"_**Since when did she start carrying a gun?"**_ Ross asked.

"We need to go in there," I said.

"_**Not just yet,"**_ Bernard argued. "_**Give Logan a chance to defuse the situation."**_

"Captain!" I argued.

"He's right," Bobby said. "If we go in now, she'll feel cornered. We don't know how she'll react. Let's see where this goes."

"See where it goes?" I retorted sharply. I was quickly losing my cool. "You mean like see who she shoots first?"

"Carolyn," Alex said, and her tone cut through the melee in my brain. "She's not going to start shooting up the bar. She'll try to walk him out of there. And right now, she doesn't know that Mike's in on it."

"That's right," Bobby added. "She'll get Mike to help her get Strathmore out before they decide what to do with him. When they get outside, then we can take her."

"_**Take a deep breath, sweetheart."**_

That was Mike. Supposedly to Rhonda, but I knew that it was meant for me.

"_**I don't need to relax,"**_ Rhonda insisted. _**"This asshole thinks he can cheat us out of our money? And why aren't you pissed off?"**_

"_**I am,"**_ Mike insisted. _**"I'm trying not to make a scene."**_

"_**Okay. Okay, you're right."**_

"_**We can't shoot him in here,"**_ Mike added reasonably. And then he dropped his voice to a whisper, presumably so that only Rhonda would hear. _**"But we can take him back to my house and kill him there."**_

"_**Good, Logan,"**_ Bernard said. _**"We can be ready for that. Cap?"**_

"_**We'll head there now,"**_ Ross said. _**"Goren, you guys stay here to make sure that it happens. We'll be out of com range, so you'll have to text to let us know when they're coming. When they get to Logan's, we'll jump her as she enters the house."**_

"It's a good plan," Alex said, catching my eye again. She clicked off her mike and continued. "She still thinks that Mike's on board. And killing Strathmore at his house will seem like a good idea to her. It'll be private and they can leave the body there while they escape to Mexico."

"We're going to have to fucking move," I muttered.

But I had to admit that the plan was strategically sound.

"_**Rhonda?"**_ Mike questioned since she hadn't responded yet.

"_**Yeah, yeah, okay. Put all this shit away and pay the check so we can get out of here. And don't you fucking move, you hear me, rich boy? Just because I don't want to kill you in front of all these nice people doesn't mean that I won't. Got it?"**_

"_**I got it,"**_ John agreed.

"I don't like this," Bobby said.

"Join the club," I told him.

I watched as Ross drove their car down the street so that they could set up the ambush at our house.

"We can take her on the sidewalk," I suggested. "As soon as she leaves the building."

"That's when she'll be most vigilant," Alex argued. "She's already worried about cops. She'll know that if it's a bust, they'll catch her at the door."

"_**They've paid,"**_ Lupo said. _**"It should be any minute."**_

"_**Let me hold that, sugar,"**_ Mike said as he slid from the booth. _**"I've probably got a little more experience handling a gun."**_

"_**I…I…don't think so,"**_ Rhonda said uncertainly.

"_**Shit, she's wavering,"**_ Lupo said. _**"She's suspicious**_."

"_**I just don't want it to go off by accident,"**_ Mike explained in a soothing voice.

"_**Hold on,"**_ Rhonda said suddenly.

They were all three standing next to the booth, and Rhonda had the gun jammed into her purse, but she was still pointing it at John. She glanced at Mike, and then narrowed her eyes at John.

"_**Tell me the name on the account."**_

"_**What?"**_ he asked in confusion.

"_**The name. On the account that you managed to hack into."**_

"_**Michelle Watkins,"**_ Lupo said quickly. _**"Tell her Michelle Watkins."**_

"_**It's…uh…Michelle Watkins."**_

We all let out a collective sigh of relief when he properly relayed the information.

The situation was still bad, but if she figured out that Mike was in on it, too, then it was going to get even worse.

"_**How did you find it?"**_

"_**The account?"**_

"_**Yeah, genius. The account. How did you find it?" **_Then she paused for a second and a look of confusion crossed over her face. _**"In fact, how did you even know where to look?"**_

And there she had us.

No one had an answer to give John because we'd never expected her to know that we were even _into_ her account, much less ask him how he'd found it.

"_**You didn't even know that a woman was involved in this. You only spoke to Mikey,"**_ she said slowly, and then she drew the gun from her purse and pointed it at Mike.

"_**Rhonda, listen,"**_ Mike began, although his words trailed off as other patrons in the bar took notice of the gun and began scrambling for the exit.

My heart was in my throat as I watched her give him a shove so that he was now standing next to his brother.

Then she aimed the gun at Mike's chest.

"_**You fucking bastard,"**_ she said slowly. _**"It's **_**you**_**." **_

TBC...


	49. Chapter 49

**Lupo POV**

* * *

I felt utterly helpless as the whole damn sting fell apart.

It was one of those situations where doing the wrong thing could make things irrevocably worse and yet I had no idea what the right thing was.

When Rhonda had pushed Strathmore for the name on the account, I'd spouted out the information for him.

I thought I'd patched up the hole.

But then as she asked him how he knew about it at all, I realized my colossal mistake. The words barely had a chance to float through my brain before she was saying them out loud.

"_**You didn't even know that a woman was involved in this. You only spoke to Mikey,"**_ I heard Rhonda say, and then she turned her weapon onto Logan.

We were good and royally fucked.

If I went at her now, would she shoot?

She wasn't all that familiar with a weapon, as far as we knew.

So would she have an itchy trigger finger?

Was she devolving before our very eyes as the realization hit her that Logan was the enemy?

"_**Rhonda, listen,"**_ Logan began, although his words trailed off as other patrons in the bar took notice of the gun and began scrambling for the exit.

_Think, Lupo._

The restaurant was cleared, but Connie was still here. And Strathmore. Both were unarmed civilians.

Logan had a gun, but I wasn't sure how fast he could get to it.

Then I watched as Rhonda aimed the gun at Logan's chest.

"_**You fucking bastard,"**_ she said slowly. _**"It's **_**you**_**." **_

_Not that fast_, I thought. Any move he made would be interpreted as a threat, and I had no doubt that she'd shoot.

"_**We're coming in,"**_ Goren said.

"No," I said quietly. "She's going to make a break for it. Cover the exits."

"_**Rhonda, sugar, you know that I didn't have anything to do with this,"**_ Logan said.

"_**Shut up! Just shut the fuck up and let me think!"**_

"_**Let's go back to my house and talk about this. You know someone here must have called the cops by now. We don't want to stick around."**_

The back of Strathmore's head had been blocking my view of Rhonda, but as he shifted slightly I was able to see her face and was surprised to see that she was crying.

She'd come completely unglued.

"_**Shit, why did you do this to me, Mikey?"**_

I knew it was coming a split second before I heard the shot.

"Get down!" I yelled to Connie as I jumped from my seat and raised my gun.

I watched in horror as Strathmore and Logan both fell sideways into the booth.

"Put it down!" I shouted, as I eased toward the center of the room.

My new position left me as a sitting duck, but I wanted to draw her attention away from the booths.

She'd been too close to miss, so either Logan or Strathmore was shot already and I didn't need her going at them again, or at Connie.

It also left the path to the front door clear, but I knew that I'd have back-up outside.

"I knew you were a fucking cop!"

"That's right," I said calmly. "I'm a cop. So this needs to end right now. We need to bring the paramedics in here. You don't want to add murder to the charges."

_As though she hadn't already killed before_, I thought wryly. But she didn't know that I knew that.

"I don't care if that bastard lives or dies," she said. "But you let me walk out of here, and then you can save him if you want. If you _can_."

"Where you gonna go, huh Rhonda? Back to White Horse?"

She flinched visibly, but started easing toward the front door.

I could hear Carolyn in my ear, trying to get some kind of reaction from Logan and Strathmore, but I had to tune them out and focus on Rhonda.

"I'm going to go somewhere that you'll never find," she insisted.

Her eyes flicked away from me briefly to scan through the front windows. I'm sure that she was surprised that there were no lights, no sirens.

"You came alone?" she asked in surprise.

"No," I told her. "I came with Logan. He's my partner."

"Maybe you need to think about getting a new partner. Because I don't think he's going to make it."

By this point, she was even with the booth where Connie was scrunched down on the bench seat.

I lowered my gun slightly.

"You can go. I won't chase you. I just want to call an ambulance."

She flashed me a victorious smile, and then headed for the door.

**

* * *

**

Carolyn POV

When I heard the shot, it was only my years of training that got me through the next few minutes.

Because all I wanted to do was run into the bar.

Instead, I got out of the car and pressed myself up against the front of the building, as close as I could get to the door. I was still about twenty yards away because the rest of the front was all windows, but that was close enough.

I can shoot a bumblebee out of the air from this range, so I could sure as hell hit Rhonda.

Bobby and Alex went around to cover the fire exit.

I stayed alone up front because Lupo was closest to the front door, so he would be my back-up.

Or I was his.

Whichever.

I just prayed that Rhonda came my way.

I had a bullet with her name on it.

My new position had taken away my line of sight, so I listened intently as Lupo tried to talk Rhonda down.

"_**Where you gonna go, huh Rhonda? Back to White Horse?"**_

"Mike…say something," I said. "John?"

But it was still just Lupo and Rhonda in my ear.

I couldn't understand why neither of them was speaking. She couldn't have hit both of them. She'd only fired once, and they'd been standing side by side.

"_**Maybe you need to think about getting a new partner. Because I don't think he's going to make it,"**_ Rhonda said. I shoved down the panic that wanted to surface and let the anger replace it.

_I am going to kill you, you fucking bitch._

"_**You can go,"**_ Lupo said. He was letting me know that she was almost out. Any minute she was going to come through the door.

My door or the fire exit?

Please be mine.

_**"I won't chase you. I just want to call an ambulance," **_Lupo said_**.**_

"_**Front door,"**_ Rubirosa whispered. _**"She's leaving through the front."**_

"I'll get her. Get Mike," I replied. My voice was cracking, but I said it again anyway, "Bobby, get Mike."

_**"I'm on it." **_

And a split second later, there she was. On the sidewalk, twenty yards away from me. She didn't look my way, but instead started hustling toward the subway station.

I noticed that she wasn't on wobbly heels. She was actually wearing Sketchers.

_Since when did she not wear stilettos?_

But that was fine. Let her run. I'd still catch her.

"Hey Rhonda!" I called out after I clicked off my mike. "Remember me?"

She stopped dead in her tracks and did a slow turn.

"No fucking way," she said in shock as she got a good look at me.

I held my gun pointed at her head as I stepped off the curb and walked towards her. There were a few people out on the street, but they all quickly scattered.

"Don't you hate it when that happens? You arrange to have someone killed and then it just doesn't work out like you planned."

"I saw the body," she insisted. "I saw _your_ body."

"No, you saw someone who looked like me. Taggart pulled the wool over your eyes."

"Taggart…"

"Yeah, he's dead now. I killed him. And you're next."

"Easy, Carolyn."

That was Lupo, and his voice wasn't just in my ear anymore. He was behind me.

But Rhonda still had a gun in her hand. She wasn't being submissive. She wasn't conceding to arrest.

I kept walking towards her.

"You honestly thought that Mike wanted you?" I taunted. All of the emotion and hatred that I'd been keeping inside of me was bubbling out. "You thought that he'd extort money and _run away with you_?"

"He _does _want me," she insisted. "He just wasn't ready to commit a crime. I shouldn't have pushed him."

"He loathed every second that he had to spend with you," I told her.

"No! No, that's not true!"

"He's married to _me_, Rhonda. Have you _completely _lost your mind? You'd have been better off to just stay away from him because now it's over. He figured you out, and we've caught you. You're done. You'd better get used to prison orange because that's the only color you'll be wearing for the rest of your life."

"Married? To _you_?" she asked in confusion.

Then she took two steps backwards, turned, and ran.

**

* * *

**

Bobby POV

At the sound of gunfire, the three of us were out of the car in a second.

"You stay up front," I told Carolyn. "We'll go around to the fire exit."

I knew that Lupo was near the front door, so between him and Carolyn, they'd have that exit covered.

It was a fifty-fifty shot as to which door she'd use.

The front would be closer to her while she was on the inside, but the fire exit let out into an alleyway, so if I were a criminal, that would be the more appealing option.

We were out of contact with Ross, and even though I knew that I should send him a text, I didn't want to take the time. We had no way of knowing how fast this was going to go down, and I couldn't justify putting down my gun so that I could get out my cell phone.

Ross would just have to wait.

And I knew that he'd understand.

Bernard would probably be hopping mad, but I'd let Lupo deal with him.

Or Ross.

Or both.

Bernard wasn't my concern.

Right now, my main concern was that a shot had been fired, and neither Mike nor John was making any sound.

One of them had been hit, but why wasn't the other one talking?

"_**You can go,"**_ Lupo said, trying to keep us apprised of the situation since he knew that we could no longer see. _**"I won't chase you. I just want to call an ambulance."**_

"_**Front door,"**_ Rubirosa whispered. And she was a godsend, because it wasn't like Lupo could just blurt it out, but now we knew where she was going. _**"She's leaving through the front."**_

_**"I'll get her. Get Mike," **_Carolyn instructed. Her voice broke as she said his name, but then she spoke directly to me. _**"Bobby, get Mike."**_

"I'm on it," I promised.

And I was.

I didn't care if I had to give him back the two pints of blood he'd given me nearly two weeks ago. I would do whatever it took.

Of course, it might not be him who was hurt. She'd been aiming at him, but things had happened quickly, and it was hard to say for sure.

But I wasn't going to let anything happen to John either.

I clicked off my mike, and looked at Alex, who was doing the same thing.

Whatever we found when we went inside, didn't need to be broadcast to Carolyn or recorded for posterity.

My heart was in my throat as I held Alex's eye. She nodded at me slightly, encouragingly, and although she didn't say a word, it helped.

We waited one more second and then opened the fire exit door.

It was normally kept locked from the inside, but Lupo had rigged it earlier so that we'd have access through it if we needed it.

We moved carefully down the back hall, wanting to make sure that Rhonda had in fact left the building, but then we heard a shout.

"Goren!"

It was Rubirosa.

We ran the rest of the way into the restaurant, and found her leaning over the back booth.

"Let me see him," I said as I moved closer. "You call 9-1-1."

"Rhonda's gone," she told us in a shaky voice. "Lupo and Carolyn took off after her."

"I'll get Ross," Alex said as she tucked her weapon back into its holster.

As the ADA stepped back from the two men still wedged into the booth, the first thing I noticed was the blood on her hand.

"Are you hurt?" I asked her as she moved away.

"No, it's not mine," she told me, as she brought her eyes up slowly to meet mine. "I was trying to find a pulse."

She didn't indicate whether or not she'd been successful.

She took another step away from us and then wiped her hand on her skirt and pulled out her cell phone to call for an ambulance.

Alex was already on with Ross telling him to get his ass over here. More specifically, telling him to get _Liz's_ ass over here.

So then I reached down and felt Strathmore's neck in search of a pulse.

He had one, but it was weak and thready.

"I think it's John who's been shot, but he's breathing. Help me move him," I told Alex as she hung up the phone. "I can't get to Mike."

Together we lifted the table up and out of the way so that we could turn Strathmore over onto his back on the opposite bench. Blood covered his right side, and there was an obvious entry wound high up on his chest.

"Where the hell is Liz?" I shouted once we had him on his back.

"I see headlights coming!" Rubirosa told us.

"Get his jacket out of the way," I instructed needlessly to Alex. She was already pulling at the material so that she could get access to the wound.

"I've got him," she told me. "Check Mike."

I turned back to Mike and panic flooded me at the amount of blood that was on him.

_It's John's. It's not his_, I thought as I leaned down to feel for a pulse.

_But then why the hell wasn't he conscious?_

My fear subsided slightly when I felt a strong carotid pulse, but I still needed to find the source of the blood.

And I would really, _really_ like it if he'd open his eyes.

I put my hand under him to shift him fully onto the bench, and I felt fresh wetness.

"Shit, Alex, his head is bleeding," I said.

"What?" she asked in alarm. "From a gunshot?"

"I don't know," I mumbled as I used my fingers to feel the back of his skull. "It was only one bullet…how the hell did she hit both of them?"

"I think I've got this under control," Alex told me, and I looked up to see that she had torn his shirt away and used the remnants as a bandage to staunch the blood flow. She reached underneath him to feel along his back. "Damn, I think he's got an exit wound."

She caught my eye across the small space and then together we looked down at Mike.

"He must have moved in front of him," I said in amazement. "It went through John and into Mike."

"Oh you're kidding me…it's a magic bullet."

TBC...

A/N: No two-fer today! This chapter is being brought to you today by Mitzvahgirl in my absence, so be sure to tell her thank you! More to come...on Monday.


	50. Chapter 50

**Liz POV**

* * *

I sat in the car that was parked near Logan's house.

I'd wanted to go in, but Danny insisted that I not be anywhere near the action. He and Bernard had gone in a few minutes before, and now the house appeared quiet.

And then suddenly it wasn't.

The front door burst open and the two of them came running down the sidewalk.

"Start the car!" Danny yelled.

I didn't ask questions. I jumped across the seat to the driver's side and started the engine.

"Go, go, go!" Bernard shouted as he hopped in the back. Danny got in the passenger seat and I peeled away from the curb before their doors were even closed.

"Back to Steve-O's?" I confirmed.

"Paramedics are on the way. Rhonda shot one of them."

"Do they have her?" Bernard asked. "Is she in custody?"

"I don't know," Danny answered. "Alex didn't say. She just said that Strathmore and Logan are both bleeding and unconscious."

"Both of them? You said she shot one of them!" Bernard argued.

"I don't know!" Danny said again. He and Bernard were both in panic mode.

And I wasn't far behind.

I'm a professional.

I deal with blood and gore and death on a daily basis.

But I didn't want to see it now.

Not with Mike.

The feeling might not be mutual as far as he was concerned, but to me, he was family. He was someone who I'd grown extremely fond of, and I couldn't imagine more than a day or two going by without hearing him crack a joke or flash me that charming smile.

And Strathmore…even though I barely knew him, he was family by extension. I didn't want anything to happen to him either.

So despite my usual ability to remain proficient under every circumstance, I suddenly felt very unprofessional. Like I'd felt Sunday night when I'd that thought I was going to collect Carolyn's body.

Maybe I was better off before when I didn't have many friends. If it was going to keep me from doing my job, then maybe I needed to take a step back and create a little more distance between us again.

I slammed on the brakes in front of the bar and jumped out.

"Hurry!" the ADA yelled out. Then she looked past me at Danny and Bernard. "I think Rhonda took off on foot! Lupo followed her out here, but I haven't seen him or Carolyn.

"Shit!" I heard Danny yell as I burst past Rubirosa and in through the front door.

"Give me the rundown," I said in a calm voice that belied my true feelings. I masked my shock at the scene in front of me when I got to the booth area.

The table had been tossed aside, and there was a bloody man lying on each bench. Alex had ripped Strathmore's shirt away and was holding pressure on a wound to the right side of his chest.

"I think it's a through and through," she told me. "I felt for it, but I didn't want to turn him back over. His pulse is steady but weak."

I turned to Bobby and forced down the wave of nausea.

_I do _not_ get sick at the sight of blood._

"He's bleeding from the back of his head, but I wanted to wait for you to move him. We're not sure exactly what happened, but it looks like a bullet went through John and maybe into Mike."

"Point of entry?"

"I haven't found it yet," he said solemnly.

And I knew what he was thinking. Maybe that was the source of the blood on his head.

"Pulse?"

"Surprisingly good, but he's been unconscious the whole time. Both of them. It's been at least five minutes."

I didn't want to play favorites, but Mike's was a head injury, so I went to him first.

"Hey, um…Rubirosa," I called out.

"Connie," she said as she came quickly toward us.

She'd been watching out the front door, presumably waiting for the ambulance. I didn't know what was taking them so long, but I really wished that they'd hurry up.

I could assess, but I didn't have any supplies to do much more.

"Keep pressure on his wound while you help Alex turn the body," I told her. Then I looked at Alex. "See if the exit wound is clotting, or if you need to put something on it."

The two women got to work, so I squatted down next to Mike and Bobby.

"Turn him toward the side so I can look at his head," I instructed Bobby.

Bobby shifted Mike so that I had a good view of the source of the bleeding. He had a nasty gash on the back of his head, but it didn't look like a bullet wound.

"I think he might've hit the table," I deduced. "I don't see an entrance wound."

"Are you sure? Then why is he still out?"

I carefully felt across Mike's entire head, and after a moment, I found the hard beginnings of a knot on his temple.

"Looks like he managed to hit his head in _two_ places," I said with some sense of relief.

Then I ran my hand along the edge of the wooden booth. "Here," I told Bobby, pointing out the rough edge on the front of the bench. "He must have caught his temple on the table and then the back of his head on the bench."

"And with John's weight forcing him down even harder, it would've been a considerable blow," Alex added.

Feeling slightly better about Mike's condition, I moved over to John and took stock of his situation.

"What did you find?" I asked Alex.

"I'm holding pressure on both sides," she told me. "The bleeding has slowed down, and it's a neat exit wound."

"Close range, high velocity…so where's the bullet?"

"There!" Connie shouted, pointing at the back of the seat in the next booth over. And sure enough, the wood was splintered in a cylindrical pattern.

"I'll be damned," I muttered. "How the hell did you see that? Well, that's good news for Mike."

We all suddenly looked down at Strathmore as he let out a low groan.

"And it looks like Mr. Strathmore here is starting to wake up," I said. "Now would be a great time for the EMTs to show up with a little bit of morphine."

"John," Alex said. He opened up his eyes, and I was pleased to see that he was able to focus on her. "It's Alex. Don't try to move, okay?"

"Mike?"

"He's right here," Bobby said.

"She tried to shoot him," he mumbled. "I shoved him…did she miss?"

"She missed him and hit you," I told him.

"Okay," he said, closing his eyes again.

"Hey, stay awake," Alex told him. The sirens were approaching, but they were still a ways off.

And I really wished that Mike would open his eyes, too.

"Connie, run in the bathroom and see if they have any ammonia."

"What? Why?" she asked. It was surely a reflex, but then for some reason she decided not to wait around for the answer. Instead, she ran towards the restrooms and in less than a minute, she was back at my side with a bottle of the noxious liquid.

"Sit him up, Bobby," I instructed.

He did as I asked, slipping in behind Mike on the bench so that he could support his weight. I removed the cap and ran the bottle briefly under Mike's nose.

Once, twice…the third time he took in a sharp breath and I jerked the bottle away from him. A little bit was enough to trigger the inhalation reflex.

And I could much better assess his head injury if he was awake.

He opened his eyes and settled his gaze on mine.

"Mike?" I asked expectantly, hoping like hell that he remembered who he was. One crack to the head could mess a guy up and he'd taken two.

It was a long minute before he spoke, during which time I didn't bother to breathe. I don't think anyone did.

"What's up, Doc?" he asked in his typical smartass tone. I couldn't help but smile. The man had a head like a rock.

"Bobby, give me a flashlight."

"I…um…I don't have one."

"Oh! Hang on," Connie said, and then she ran over to the booth near the front and in a minute she came back with a pen light. "Here."

"Perfect. Thanks." I checked Mike's pupils and had him track my finger as I moved it from side to side.

"Do I pass?" he asked me. And then he suddenly turned his head and said, "John?"

But the movement must have been too much for him because he squeezed his eyes shut tight as the pain went through his head.

"I'm okay," Strathmore answered. But his voice sounded weak, and his eyes fluttered closed again.

"Where is that damn ambulance?" I yelled.

And at last, I was rewarded with the sight of flashing red lights pulling up outside the bar.

* * *

**Lupo POV**

I gave Carolyn points for not shooting Rhonda on sight, but I wasn't sure that the danger was over.

For Rhonda, I mean.

I knew that Carolyn wanted to kill her, and I couldn't let her do it. Not like this anyway.

But then Rhonda had to run, so now all bets were off.

Carolyn and I took off after her as she barreled down the street. I didn't know where she was going, but I wasn't about to let her get away.

"Stop! NYPD!"

I felt stupid for yelling it, because of course she knew it already, but it was required.

Now I'd identified myself and yet she was still fleeing.

And she was a hell of a lot faster than I'd expected.

Carolyn was no slouch either though, and she and I were side by side as we raced down the sidewalk.

But Rhonda had been a dozen or more yards ahead of us when the chase began.

She weaved her way down another block, and then down an alley.

At the end of the alley, she went through a gate in a chain link fence and then promptly slammed the padlock closed before she took off again into the darkness.

I'd fired at her as she fiddled with the lock, but I was still running so my aim was off.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me," I muttered as I threw myself up and over the fence.

I turned around to help Carolyn, but she landed on her feet on the ground next to me before I could even get my hand up.

"Nice," I said as we took off again.

I had no idea where Rhonda was headed, but I could still barely see her in the distance ahead of us, and I wasn't about to let her go.

"What did you expect?" she answered, not even out of breath.

"Not Wonder Woman," I laughed.

"Nah, she's back at Steve-O's," she replied dismissively. "Can you still see her?"

"Yeah, look," I said, pointing off to the right. "She's going into the cemetery."

"Great."

My thoughts exactly.

We climbed another fence and suddenly Rhonda had disappeared.

Our com devices had long since been out of range, so not only did no one know where we were, but we also didn't know the status of Logan and Strathmore.

At the moment, it felt like we were alone in the world.

I got out a flashlight and together we began scouring the graveyard.

"She's not still running," Carolyn whispered. "We'd have seen something. She's hiding."

"Uh huh."

The headstones were varying heights which made our search effort more difficult. I had to wonder if she'd known about this place ahead of time, or if she was just that damn lucky to stumble across the ideal place for hide and seek.

"We'll call her," Carolyn said as she reached in her pocket.

"What?"

"I'll call her cell phone. I've got the number."

The woman was a damn genius. She pulled out her phone and called the number of one of Rhonda's cell phones.

A shrill ring sounded off to our left. It was silenced immediately, but we had a bead on her now. Together we noiselessly made our way over the grass.

"Think she'd be smart enough to turn off her other ones?" I asked when we were in the spot where the sound had come from and yet we still didn't see her.

"Smart enough maybe, but is she _quick_ enough is more the question...let's find out."

She called another number and this time we heard a buzzing sound directly behind us.

We both whirled around and then circled a small monument just as Rhonda made a mad dash to get out from behind it.

"Stop!" I yelled again. She glanced back over her shoulder, and kept running, but then she tripped over a grave marker and sprawled out flat on the grass.

In seconds, Carolyn and I both stood near her feet, our guns pointed at her head.

"Drop the weapon and roll over!" Carolyn shouted at her, because despite her tumble, Rhonda still held the gun in her hand. It was resting by her side, and not posing any immediate threat, but it was in her grasp.

Rhonda didn't let go.

"Do it now!" I added.

She rolled over, but kept the gun in her hand.

And so Carolyn fired.

But I was the cop.

My assessment of the level of threat would carry a lot more weight than hers.

She was the victim. And the wife of the victim.

She was potentially biased, and would face a serious inquiry.

So I did what I needed to do.

I pulled the trigger.

TBC...


	51. Chapter 51

**Ross POV**

* * *

Bernard and I were on a wild goose chase until we heard the gun shots. One, followed a few seconds later by a second.

And then all was quiet.

"Cemetery," I said to Bernard, pointing toward the large fenced in area off to our left.

We shifted track and headed for the graveyard. Neither of us said a word.

Could Rhonda have gotten the drop on Lupo and Carolyn both?

Two shots, one into each of them?

Or was it the two of them who had fired? If so, were they warning shots or had they hit their intended target?

And what the hell was going on back at Steve-O's?

Liz hadn't called. I didn't know if that was good or bad. It only took a second to assess a patient if said patient was dead. It would take longer if she had to administer first aid of some sort.

But _this _long? How much first aid did she have to give?

Although a quick check of my watch had me settling my panic. It hadn't been that long.

It merely _felt_ like forever.

I abhorred being out of the loop, and tonight I was so far out of it that I couldn't even _see_ the loop.

"Cap," Bernard said quietly. He elbowed me lightly and then pointed across the lot.

Lupo and Carolyn were walking toward us.

"Did you get her?" Bernard asked cautiously.

But I knew the answer. Because they wouldn't be walking if they hadn't.

They'd still be in pursuit even if they had no idea which way to go.

"She's dead," Lupo said. I nodded and held out my hand as he approached and gave me his weapon.

"You?" I asked him.

"Both of us," Carolyn said. She gave me her weapon as well before looking at me anxiously. "Mike?"

"I haven't heard," I admitted. "Liz is with them."

"I'm going back," she told me.

"Carolyn, we need your statement," Bernard said.

She opened her mouth to argue, but I held up my hand.

"Go," I told her. "I'll find you later and take your statement myself."

The words were barely out of my mouth before she took off running, heading back to Steve-O's.

"Cap, she's a civilian and she killed a perp."

"I was there," Lupo stated. "I saw the whole thing. Hell, I shot her, too. It was a good shoot."

"She's a victim," Bernard argued.

"What's your problem?" Lupo yelled. "I'm telling you it was a good shoot. Suddenly my word's not good enough for you?"

"I'm just saying that it looks a little fishy that this woman who's been salivating over her husband suddenly turns up dead."

Lupo stepped into Bernard so that now they were toe to toe.

I didn't put a stop to it yet because sometimes when tensions were running high it was good to let them vent.

I also wanted to see how it played out considering they were both my detectives now.

"It wasn't suddenly. Rhonda shot Logan and then fled the scene. We chased her. She had a gun. She tripped over a fucking gravestone but still wouldn't let go of her gun. We told her three times to drop it and she wouldn't. Does that sound like vigilante justice to you? Does that sound like a vengeful wife?"

By this time Lupo's voice was echoing through the cemetery, and Bernard just held his gaze without responding.

"Okay, Lupes," Bernard said at last, and he looked like he was fighting with himself not to grin. "I hear you."

I liked Bernard. It may have seemed like he was being an ass, but he wasn't. He was pushing Lupo, wanting to see if his story wavered.

If there were holes in it, we needed to know now, before IAB showed up.

"Good," Lupo said with a nod. He was still a little irked. "Now you want to see the body or what?"

"Let's go."

We trampled through the cemetery, doing our best to be respectful of the graves, and then we came upon Rhonda.

She was on her back, with two bullet holes in her head and the gun still in her hand.

I had to admit to getting some satisfaction from seeing her like this. Carolyn had to be positively giddy. That woman had been running roughshod over her and Mike for too long, and considering that she'd ordered Carolyn dead, possibly shot Mike, and had added Goren to her hit list, well…she was no innocent that was for sure.

"That's Carolyn's gun," Lupo said quietly, indicating the weapon in the victim's hand. "She wants it back."

"I'll make sure she gets it after it's been processed," I said.

Bernard stood with his hands on his hips looking around at the numerous oddly shaped monuments and head stones.

"How'd you guys even find her in here?" he asked.

"We played fucking Marco Polo," Lupo answered.

"What?"

"Yeah," he said on a chuckle. "It was Carolyn's idea. She called one of her cell phones and it rang, and then she called another one."

Bernard let out a low whistle and said, "Damn, I think I like that girl."

"So Rhonda fell?" I asked Lupo.

Lupo gave me the rundown again on exactly what had happened.

"She had it in her hand, with you two standing near her feet? Was she pointing it at either of you?"

"No," he admitted. "But she raised her arm. And she'd already shot someone else tonight. We knew she didn't mind pulling the trigger," he added defensively.

"Hey, I'm not trying to crucify you. I'm just asking you what IAB is going to ask you. Who shot first?"

"Uh…I'm not sure."

"You're not sure? Be sure."

"It was at the same time, I think."

Bernard and I looked at each other for a long minute.

We'd heard the shots. Three seconds fell between them.

Of course, I also thought it had been hours since I'd left Liz at Steve-O's when it actually had only been minutes.

The bottom line was that Bernard and I weren't here when it happened.

The suspect fled, she had a gun, and she hadn't dropped it upon multiple commands.

It was a good shoot.

I gave Lupo a nod, and cast a last glance at Rhonda.

"Okay, Cap, want me to call it in?" Bernard asked.

"Yeah," I told him. "You two wait with the body. I'm going back to check on the others."

As I walked away, I couldn't help but smirk as I heard Bernard say, "So…Rubirosa, huh? How come you didn't tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

Bernard laughed, and said, "Don't ever try a career as a criminal, Lupes. 'Cause you can't lie for shit."

**

* * *

**

Logan POV

As I felt myself being pulled toward consciousness, I thought I was a kid again.

That was how bad my head hurt.

It felt like the time my mom had busted a bottle of rum over my head. Or one of those times, anyway.

I could smell myself and the odors were sickeningly sweet liquor and sweat and fear.

Because for a long time, I was afraid of her. Not of the beatings so much as the idea that one time she'd take it too far and actually kill me.

But then after awhile I quit being afraid. How much worse could it be to be dead?

I felt myself being jostled around, but gently. The hands on me weren't rough or careless. They weren't my mother's.

And then I realized that the sweet smell wasn't rum, but blood. I could still smell the sweat and fear, but something else. A gun had been fired recently.

_Face reality, Mike. Open your eyes._

As the thought worked its way through my aching brain, a new smell assaulted me. I fought the urge to vomit, and instead took in a deep breath and forced open my eyes.

It wasn't my mother standing over me, but Rodgers.

"Mike?"

There was worry etched across her face. Concern for _me_, for my well-being.

I very nearly burst into tears with relief that I was back in _this_ world.

"What's up, Doc?" I asked casually in an effort to mask my flood of emotion.

"Bobby, give me a flashlight," she said.

_Bobby_. That's who was holding me up, because that's what brothers did for each other.

Things were starting to clear up for me.

I sat patiently and followed Rodgers' instructions as she checked my eyes, but my mind was busy piecing back the events.

Rhonda figured out that it was me. She had a gun, and she was upset, and she held it up to fire…and then someone shoved me out of the way.

I'd been braced for the impact of the bullet, knowing that it was coming, but it never did.

Instead, I hit my head on something and the lights had gone out.

"Do I pass?" I asked Rodgers when she leaned back and smiled at me.

But then it hit me who that _someone_ was.

"John?" I asked quickly, turning my head to look for him. An intense pain went through my head at the movement and I slammed my eyes shut.

"I'm okay," I heard John answer. But he didn't sound okay.

"Where's that damn ambulance?" Rodgers called out, but her voice sounded too far away.

I didn't want to slip away again. I didn't want to go back to my mother's house and the smell of rum and the sound of her resentful voice.

"Stay with us, Mike," Bobby said. "Carolyn's gonna be mad as hell if you're not awake when she gets back."

_Carolyn_…I instantly felt guilty that she hadn't been my first thought. How could I have forgotten my wife?

The memories of her came flooding back at the mention of her name, but I was still appalled with myself for the oversight.

And then I was concerned about what Bobby _wasn't_ saying.

"Where is she?"

"She went after Rhonda."

_Of course she did_, I thought proudly. She'd be after her like a damn bloodhound.

Of course, Rhonda still had that gun…

"Alone?" I asked him.

"Lupo's with her."

Lupo.

He'd obviously been good enough to keep Rhonda from killing John and me both after we'd gone down. He'd been watching my back for two days now.

I had to trust that he'd watch hers, too.

The paramedics flooded into the restaurant, and I listened with little interest as Rodgers gave them the rundown on our conditions.

They took John first, for which I was glad. When they wheeled him out, he was still conscious, but barely.

"Hey Doc," I said. "Go with him, will you? Make sure they take good care of him."

She looked at me and I was shocked to see that her eyes were filled with tears. She put her hand on my cheek and patted it lightly.

"Head like a rock," she said affectionately. Then she gave me a nod, and added, "Yeah, I'll go with him."

A minute later, the second ambulance arrived and in no time, I was loaded onto the back of the bus. Alex was in the back with me and Bobby was going to follow in his car.

"Hey!" I heard just before the doors slammed closed.

And the sound of her voice, even in a shout, sent a wave of relief and love through me that instantly blocked out the thundering pain in my head.

The doors came open again, and Carolyn got into the ambulance.

"You weren't really going to leave without me, were you?"

"Never," I answered. "Did you get her?"

"Only one of you can ride," the EMT said.

We all ignored him as Carolyn gave a nod along with a relieved smile.

"Yeah. We got her. She's dead."

"Ladies, please. We're not pulling out until one of you leaves."

Alex leaned down and kissed me on the forehead.

"I'll see you at the hospital," she told me, and then she hopped out and shut the doors.

Carolyn came up to sit by my head, where she carefully ran her fingers over my hair.

"Where are you shot?" she asked me.

"I'm not. John pushed me out of the way. I just cracked my head on the table."

"And the bench," the EMT added. He was sitting along the side bench apparently just waiting for me to decompensate, because otherwise he wasn't doing a damn thing.

I glared at him for jumping into our conversation and then looked back at Carolyn.

She was near tears, too, just like Rodgers had been. I'd made two tough women cry tonight.

"I was so worried," she whispered. She leaned over and kissed me again and again, on the cheek, the lips, the forehead, everywhere. "I was so scared to leave you but I couldn't let her get away again."

"You did the right thing."

"I told Bobby to take care of you."

"He did," I assured her. "Bobby and Alex, both. Lupo stayed with you?"

"Yeah," she said with a nod. "He stayed right with me."

I wanted to ask who had killed Rhonda, but I was almost afraid of the answer. And it wasn't a question for an audience, so it could wait.

She buried her head in the crook of my neck, and I held one arm tightly around her back.

"It's over," she murmured. "It's finally over."

TBC...


	52. Chapter 52

**Lupo POV**

* * *

It only took half an hour to wrap things up at the cemetery.

Or my portion of it anyway.

Cops had already been en route to Steve-O's due to the reports of gunfire, even before Bernard's call, so it only took a few minutes to redirect a couple of units to our location.

As a homicide detective, I'd gotten respect from most of the uniforms.

As an MCS detective, I got even more. They took my story, gave me a pat on the back, and sent me on my way.

"You think Ross called, too?" I asked Bernard as we headed back to the restaurant. "Or do you think it's the new title?"

"I'm betting Ross called. He's had some trouble with the 6-9 captain. He was probably on the phone with him before he even left the cemetery."

I hadn't spoken with Connie since I'd taken off after Rhonda about forty-five minutes earlier, and I had no idea what was going on with Logan or Strathmore.

Before, I'd been too busy to call, and now that I wasn't, I just wanted to see her.

And when I got to the last half-block before Steve-O's, I finally saw her, outside on the sidewalk.

She was standing amidst the flashing blue lights and yellow crime scene tape and numerous officers walking in and out of the bar…but she was searching the vicinity, looking for me.

"This is a hell of a way to start our time at MCS, huh?" Bernard was saying. "Although at least we know the new cap likes us."

"Uh huh," I agreed without thought, unable to tear my eyes away from her. She hadn't seen me yet. I was still in the darkness of the side street and she was on the well-lit sidewalk.

I was at war with myself. I wanted nothing more than to run to her and hold her in my arms. But we were amongst our peers.

I'd been terrified when she'd put herself in harm's way. That wasn't her job, and yet she'd been fearless. She'd seen what needed to be done, and then she'd done it.

"Lupes?"

"Huh?"

"Did you hear what I said?"

And right then, her eyes locked onto mine. I watched as she visibly relaxed at the sight of me, and then she flashed me a smile that was like a punch in the gut.

I loved her. _Damn_, I loved her.

"No," I answered.

I jogged the rest of the way across the street and then ducked down to go under the barricade.

She met me just on the inside of the blockade, and when I stood up, I captured her face in my hands and I kissed her.

There was no hesitation on her part, no reluctance due to the _very_ public venue.

In fact, she kissed me back, just as fervently, and she grabbed hold of my belt loops and pulled me closer to her.

And I couldn't stop. I couldn't stop kissing her.

I had no idea how Logan and Goren worked with their wives, how they could deal with having them in potentially life-threatening situations on a regular basis.

I just wanted Connie to be in her office, safe from gun-wielding maniacs.

Although I guess nowhere was safe. They'd had a gun-wielding maniac in the men's room of the courthouse not so long ago.

So maybe having her next to me was better.

It was hard to say, but one thing for sure was that it was stupid to waste time with subterfuge.

I forced myself to pull back fractionally. I kept my hands on her cheeks and watched her as she struggled to regain her professionalism.

But I wasn't about to let her go. Because it was crazy, really.

We were standing here in front of my partner and at least a dozen other cops, and we'd just kissed like there was no tomorrow, so the cat was most definitely out of the bag, but still…she was trying.

For me? Or for her?

Only one way to find out.

"Ross said you got her," she said at last.

She was giving me an out.

I could step back and talk about the case.

Or…

"I love you."

"What?" she asked, her eyes widening in surprise.

"I love you," I repeated, and then I kissed her again, this time slowly.

And I was afraid to quit because I wasn't sure that I wanted to hear the silence that might ensue. That awkward moment when she didn't say it back.

But I was a risk-taker. And this was part of it.

So I finally let her go.

"Can we go home?" she asked me. Not exactly what I'd hoped to hear, but it could've been worse. "Or do you have to stay?"

"Bernard, I'm signing out," I called out without taking my eyes from hers. I had no doubt that my partner was lurking nearby.

"I figured that," he replied. "I'll see you in another week."

Ah…another week. Actually, I had ten whole days before I had to report to MCS for duty.

"Stay out of trouble," I told him.

"Always."

"You ready?" I asked her.

"Let's go."

Together we started walking towards my car which was parked a few blocks away. We were halfway there, when she suddenly stopped me.

"No, I'm not ready," she said.

"To go?"

"No. Not yet."

"Okay…" I replied cautiously.

"You just caught me by surprise," she said. She looked down at her feet in a display of uncharacteristic nervousness.

"Are you upset that we're out of the closet? Because if you want, we can stage a whole fight and then in a few weeks everyone will have forgotten all about it and…"

She effectively shut down my rambling by pushing me against the nearby bus stop enclosure and kissing me senseless.

_She definitely wasn't mad_.

After a minute, she pulled back and then said the words in a rush, "I love you, too."

"You do?" I asked, ridiculously pleased with her admission.

I'd made up my mind over the past two minutes that I was okay with her not having said the words just as long as she was still with me.

"Yeah," she said with a grin. "It just pisses me off that you said it first."

I barked out a laugh and put my arm around her.

"You shouldn't have waited so long then," I teased as we resumed walking towards the car.

I couldn't remember the last time that I'd felt this good.

"How was I supposed to know you'd pick _now_ to say it?" she joked. "That's not very romantic, Lupo."

"Ah, well, if you want romance sweetheart, then you've got the wrong guy."

"No," she said, and she was suddenly serious. "I've definitely got the right guy."

**

* * *

**

Liz POV

Danny and I got home at three a.m.

I was emotionally exhausted.

When had I become such a softie? And how was I going to be any good at my job if I couldn't keep my emotions out of the equation?

"Do you want a drink?" Danny asked me as I stood numbly in the living room.

I'd gotten as far as tossing my coat onto the back of the couch, but that was it.

Despite the amount of time I'd spent in the hospital, I hadn't taken the opportunity to clean up. I still had John's blood on me. And Mike's.

"I guess," I replied without thinking.

I couldn't sit on the couch, not with these clothes on, so I took them off where I stood and then settled down on the couch with my feet tucked underneath me.

"Liz," Danny began with concern when he came back into the room. He must have changed his mind about getting us drinks because he was empty-handed.

And I'm sure that I was quite the sight. I didn't normally hang out in the living room in my underwear.

"I'm fine," I said preemptively.

"You're not fine," he answered as he sat down next to me.

He held out his arm to me, and I hesitated for a minute. Not because I didn't appreciate the gesture, but because my emotions were much too close to the surface for comfort.

But he didn't wait for me.

He pulled me up close, letting my head rest against his chest, and then he stroked his hand over my hair.

"You're not fine," he said again in a hushed voice.

And then I couldn't hold it in any longer.

My insecurities and emotion that I'd been keeping in check since Sunday came pouring out of me.

"I don't know if I can keep doing this," I admitted. I kept my face buried in his chest even though my tears were quickly dampening his shirt.

"Doing what?"

"I care too much. And then they get hurt, and I fall apart. What kind of a doctor hesitates at the sight of blood?"

"Did you?"

"Did I what?"

"Did you hesitate? When you got there, I mean."

"I…um…I'm not sure," I answered, because as I thought back over the night's events, I _wasn't_ sure. What had I done when I got there?

"You had a moment of fear when you heard that he was hurt," Danny said reasonably. "And maybe your confidence slipped when you thought about what you might have to do."

"Well, yes!" I answered in frustration. "I was picturing him lying on the floor of that bar with a bullet in his chest!"

"Right. But what happened when you got there?"

"I…I went in and…and then Alex and Bobby told me what they knew, and…and I started with Mike because he had a head injury, and…"

"And I'd bet money that you didn't waste a second. You assessed both patients before the ambulance arrived. You instructed Alex on how to carefully find the exit wound. You managed to bring Mike around and did a basic neuro check on him so that when the paramedics arrived, they knew which patient was most critical."

I was speechless for a moment when I realized that not only was everything he said the truth, but also that he knew it even though he hadn't been there.

"Am I right?" he asked me.

"Well…yes," I admitted.

"The Gorens told me," he explained. "And Rubirosa filled in a few blanks, too. You got her to help, making full use of your resources. You took control of the scene, despite the fact that you cared about the injured parties."

"Yes. I guess I did."

"Liz," he said softly, and then he waited until I looked at him. "You can never care too much. And you're too damn good at your job to let your feelings get in the way."

He kissed me then, a gentle reassurance that I was okay.

And then it turned into something else. It became more heated and more urgent and just…more.

But my growing need was overshadowed by my realization that I still had blood on me.

"Danny," I whispered when he moved his lips down to my throat. "I'm…I need to shower."

"That sounds like an excellent idea," he said.

He got up from the couch and held out his hand before adding, "Come on. I'll help."

**

* * *

**

Bobby POV

It was Friday night, and I was looking forward to a weekend of not getting out of bed.

And okay, so I'd be getting out of bed Saturday night to go to Lewis' poker game, but other than that…Alex and I were staying under the covers for forty-eight hours.

Because we'd wrapped up this god-awful case. Finally.

And as much as I hated to see someone get killed, I couldn't bring myself to be upset over Rhonda's death.

She was like Nicole. Charges would never stick, prison bars would never hold her, and she'd never quit as long as there was breath in her body.

But now there wasn't.

Mike had spent last night in the hospital under observation, but he'd been released this morning. He'd needed several dozen sutures to close up the head wound, but aside from a persistent headache and some minor blurred vision, he was doing pretty well.

John had undergone surgery last night on his collarbone which had been broken by the bullet, but his prognosis was excellent and he was expected to be released in another couple of days.

Alex and I had stopped by to see him earlier, but they had him on IV antibiotics and some heavy-duty painkillers, so he was in and out.

I'd called his office this morning to let Jessica know that he wouldn't be in for the day. She said that she'd take care of letting Rocco know, but it was kind of sad to see that no one came to visit him.

Unfortunately, John would have to miss the poker game tomorrow night, but we'd promised him that he'd get an invitation to the next one.

And it wasn't like we weren't going to be seeing him again.

He'd taken a bullet for Mike.

And he was a living example for Mike that his genetic material wasn't all bad.

I had a feeling we were going to be seeing him quite a bit.

"Are you coming to bed?" Alex called to me.

I was in the kitchen finishing up a report on a consultation I'd taken care of earlier.

Alex and I had both worked like fiends today to try to catch things up on the business front. I didn't want Mike or Carolyn to have to worry about it, at least over the weekend.

We'd also set up a meeting with Ross for Monday afternoon. He'd been vague about its purpose, but he did mention that he'd be sure to have a check for us as payment for our work on the Hagen case.

And that was good because we still hadn't seen any money from the Carver case.

Working for the NYPD as consultants may work out much better than taking on individuals as clients because at least the department paid their debts.

Although so far, the business wasn't hurting. And I was bringing in my retirement pay, and Alex was still getting severance pay, so times weren't too tight.

In fact, Carolyn had mentioned something about her and Mike taking a trip once Mike was cleared. They'd never gotten around to taking a honeymoon, so I was glad to hear that they'd be getting one now.

And after the past week, if anyone needed a vacation it was them.

So that meant that it would probably be just me and Alex in the office for another week.

And that was perfectly fine with me.

A little decrease in action would be a nice change of pace.

"Bobby?"

_Well, a decrease in _work_ action_, I thought with a smile.

"I'm coming," I answered as I turned out the lights. I went down the hall and found her already in the bed.

Or rather, _on_ the bed.

"I thought maybe you'd like to settle up our bet tonight," she said in sultry voice.

_As if I needed any more stimuli to speed up the arousal process_.

Because my brain had gone into complete shutdown mode as every drop of blood headed south just at the sight of her.

"No?" she teased when I still hadn't budged.

I couldn't help it.

I was rooted to the spot, completely undone by the vision before me.

She quirked an eyebrow at me and gave me a smile that brought my hard-on just to the edge of painful, and I finally found my voice as I moved towards her.

"Yes. Most definitely yes."

**The End**

**A/N: Thanks to everyone still reading - it's been fun. **

**As always, a tremendous debt of gratitude to Mitzvahgirl - she continues to tolerate my whining and keeps me pointed in the right direction. Saying _thank you _doesn't feel like nearly enough. **


End file.
